


you know i'm such a fool for you

by lovedandliked



Category: Parks and Recreation
Genre: Alternate Universe - Summer Camp, F/F, Fluff and Humor, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-11
Updated: 2018-01-13
Packaged: 2018-06-07 18:40:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 23,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6819616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovedandliked/pseuds/lovedandliked
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"She’s sparked something inside of her that’s started at her feet and spreads up her body, out through the top of her head and fingers. She feels like a lit fuse, and Ann’s the match."</p><p>AU: Leslie and Ann meet as camp counselors in the summer of 1995.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> so i really don't know what this is tbh?? it's summer (or at least close enough!!) and i wanted to write something summery so we'll see how this goes. idk. 
> 
> as always, feedback is highly appreciated/encouraged. c:

She is all smiles and sunshine.

She hopes that it rubs off on her campers. Is that what she should be calling them? Her campers? It sounds kind of condescending. Her sisters? No, that’s a little too Lillith Fair for her. 

(Although she’s always wanted to go to Lillith Fair. What could be more fun than a music festival celebrating ladies?)

Leslie doesn’t know what she’ll call her campers. To be fair, she doesn’t know what she’s going to do in this new job she’s taken on for the summer, but that’s not to say that she won’t have it all figured out within a matter of days. Hours, really. She’s already scheduled this evening to sit down with her planner and map out all of the activities she wants to do with the young women she’s going to supervise this summer. 

She realizes that the campground itself already has stuff planned out, but she wouldn’t be Leslie Knope if she didn’t add her own flair to things. Besides, she figures that she’ll make the best of a summer job that ended up being a Plan B.

Alright, maybe Plan B isn’t the best term to use, but it’s fitting. She was supposed to be interning at City Hall this summer, and actually be working towards something that would help propel her career forward – because that’s what all college students should be doing, isn’t it? Her freshman year at University of Indiana was spent knocking out her generals and overloading her schedule spring semester, and, of course, admittedly stretching herself too thin and applying for internships at places she was told she wouldn’t get accepted, but Leslie persisted, just because. 

The job at the summer camp came from her roommate, who had worked here last summer. She had told Leslie that they would “definitely accept her,” because she was so “enthusiastic about… everything.” She applied, not thinking that one day, she would actually have to drive out to the lake that was an hour from her house and spend her summer alternating between being covered in sunscreen and bug spray.

(Luckily for her, they sell insect repellent-infused sunscreen. Who would have thought?)

So she’s taken the job as a camp counselor, which really doesn’t seem that difficult. It’s one step above babysitting, since the kids that attend the camp are high schoolers. She just has to organize events, supervise bonfires, make sure no one dies. She’s never been to Camp Wamapoke herself, but she went to high school with kids that did, and they always came back to school in the fall smelling of the lake and sporting new freckles, eager to tell the class their stories about catching fish and making s’mores and making out in the mess hall. It always sounded like a magic home away from home during the summer, where adults weren’t really a thing, and neither were responsibilities.

Leslie spent her high school summers mowing lawns and cleaning pools to save for college. She’s excited to take a summer for herself.

Her cabin is on the small side; smaller than the ones the campers live in. It doesn’t bother her. She’s been living in a dorm for the past eight months, so it’s nothing she can’t handle. Her mom’s already left, saying that she’s got to be back at the office (even though it’s a Saturday), but she leaves Leslie with her suitcases at her feet, ready to take on the months ahead of her. It really won’t be that bad. She looks forward to it, actually. Maybe she’ll make a new friend. Or she’ll finally have a boyfriend. That would be exciting – and romantic, wouldn’t it? Meeting a boy who’s a fellow counselor and having to hide their relationship from everyone else (because she can only assume that those sorts of things are taboo) by stealing kisses behind cabins and holding hands on hikes together. She’s matured a bit during her first year in college. She is not the scrawny blonde girl from Pawnee High who spent more time talking about the Clinton campaign than what she was going to wear to the homecoming dance. She’s more mature, and she knows about things now.

She’s never done said things, but she knows a little bit more about how life works. And that’s really all that matters, right?

Leslie hasn’t bothered to reach out to the counselor she’ll be bunking with, largely because her phone number wasn’t provided in the bunk assignment she had been mailed in the spring. That wasn’t to say that she hadn’t thought about it (she did have really nice stationary that she had been given as a graduation gift), but there was something about sending this girl a letter that felt a little off. The last thing she wanted was to come across as crazy, or clingy, or anything else that would make her want to avoid their cabin during the three months they’d be living together. 

There are two beds, sitting on either side of the cabin. It looks like a dorm room, but just a bit roomier – and with wood paneled walls. A pair of red and white wringer tees and a baseball cap sit on the undressed mattress, all with ‘CAMP WAMAPOKE’ scrawled across them in big, bold letters, along with an envelope with her name printed across the front. The bed across the way has the exact same pile, still untouched. There’s a part of her that wishes that her roommate would arrive and they could bond over hanging up posters and stuffing their sock drawers, but she supposes all of that is just going to have to wait. Whoever this girl is that she’s staying with – Ann, she realizes, upon checking the envelope on the opposing bed – must be busy with something else. She probably has an actual life and has better things to do than move in early to her summer job.

That nagging part of her that is so eager to make a new friend takes over though, and Leslie decides that she’ll kill time reading whatever’s in that envelope that both girls have tossed on their beds. She can hold off on the poster hanging and color-coding of her shorts until her roommate gets here. Besides, she has a lot to unpack. She’s got plenty of time.

Leslie flops down on the bare mattress after pushing her shirts and baseball cap to the foot of the extra-long twin, tearing the envelope open. She throws her legs up in the air and kicks her feet around, eyes trying to focus on the letter she’s extracted from the envelope. It’s nothing special, just a lot of schedules and pre-planning and camper move-in information. She’s kind of disappointed. There’s a small part of her that wishes it were something of actual interest to her – not that this isn’t, it’s just not very exciting. 

She gets to the part about orientation when the screen door to the cabin swings open, slamming against the back wall. It’s enough to make Leslie sit bolt upright on the bed, using muscles she didn’t even know she had until right this very second.

A girl walks in through the door, and Leslie stares at her – she’s taller than she is, but not by much. She’s wearing a yellow shirt that’s been tied off at her waist and cutoffs that are perhaps, too short, but Leslie guesses that she’s the type of person that doesn’t care. She has long brown hair that falls over her shoulders and down her back and olive skin that looks like it glows, but Leslie’s sure that’s just because she gets a lot of sun. Wire framed sunglasses sit on her nose, hiding her eyes. She drags a big, red suitcase behind her and stops it with a sneakered foot, taking a moment to glance around the cabin. 

Leslie just sits there, unsure as to what to do or say. This girl kind of takes her by surprise.

“Hi,” the girl says, pulling a pair of headphones off of her ears and letting them rest around her neck. “You’re Leslie, right?”

Leslie nods, still somewhat of a deer in the headlights.

“I’m Ann.”

She approaches Leslie on the bed, pushing her sunglasses on top of her head. Leslie stands and they both smile, Leslie fighting the urge to extend her hand for a shake. That would be stupid and unnecessary. Besides, normal people didn’t greet each other with handshakes. People in the professional world did, sure, but this wasn’t the professional world. 

“Leslie,” she says, still smiling. She notices the wad of gum that Ann snaps between lips covered in frosted lip gloss. She knows that she’s technically an adult now and these things shouldn’t matter, but Leslie is convinced that Ann is the kind of girl that would have intimidated her back in high school. She’s pretty and tan and has long legs and a nice smile.

Leslie’s been told that she has pretty hair. So there’s that.

“Is this my bed?” Ann asks, wheeling her suitcase behind her and staring down at the mattress across from Leslie’s. She points an electric blue fingernail down at her pile of shirts and baseball cap.

“Yeah,” Leslie says, nodding her head a bit too vigorously. “Yeah, no, those are all your things.”

“Awesome,” Ann says, throwing her enormous suitcase up onto the bed in one swift motion. It takes Leslie by surprise and she jumps a little, hoping that Ann doesn’t notice. She seems really cool. She doesn’t seem like the type of person who wants to stay up late talking about politics or which kind of toaster waffle is the best kind (a conversation Leslie’s actually had and promises can actually be stimulating). Ann seems like she has a boyfriend that’s years older than she is, or that she has a tattoo that her parents don’t know about. 

She seems dangerous in the best way. And even though she won’t admit it to herself, it excites Leslie.

Ann turns over her shoulder and makes her way towards the door again, Leslie still watching her, stuck in a daze. “I’m going to go down and get the rest of my stuff,” Ann says, turning back to face Leslie, pointing a finger over her shoulder. “And my parents are probably going to come up – they want to help me unpack, say goodbye…” She twists her mouth into a weird shape and she rolls her eyes, looking embarrassed. “I hope that’s okay.”

“No, that’s fine.” Leslie leans against her bed, trying to look as cool as possible. “That’s totally cool. I’m still unpacking, so.” She laughs awkwardly and feels Ann stare at her, idly blowing a bubble with her gum and slowly lowering her sunglasses back onto her face. 

“Okay,” she says, turning on her heel and heading outside, screen door slamming behind her. Leslie can feel her face slowly become beet red as she turns back to her bed, undoing the latch to the trunk sitting at her feet. So much for making a great first impression.

She still has her sights set on that potential boyfriend, though.


	2. Chapter 2

Ann’s definitely cooler than Leslie could have ever imagined.

Her parents are just how she expects them to be – and she doesn’t understand why she already expects her parents to be a certain way, since she’s only really known Ann for a total of two minutes, but when they trail Ann into their cabin, she isn’t surprised. Her dad is tall and smiles a lot and her mom is graceful and beautiful and asks a lot of questions. They both help Ann unpack trunks and suitcases while Leslie stands on the opposite side of the room, folding clothes and tossing them into her dresser. Leslie can make out pieces of them in Ann and decides that she should stop doing this before they all realize that she’s staring.

They leave sooner than later after Ann shoos them out and tells them that she’ll call them that weekend. Ann hugs them both and her father slips her a twenty dollar bill and tells her to spend it wisely before heading out the door.

Leslie’s standing on her bed, taping pictures of her and her friends from college to the wall. They’re snapshots of her with the mock trial team, the drama club, the Young Democrats. Most are of her in a blazer and clutching a three-ring binder of some kind. She hedges a guess that Ann has pictures of herself hanging on groups of girls with streaked hair and nose rings, all beaming into the camera at some party with red Solo cups and beer spilled on the floor. 

She turns her head over her shoulder and sees Ann hanging a Spice Girls poster on her side of the wall.

“You like the Spice Girls?”

Ann turns to look at Leslie, smiling. “Yeah.” She laughs and turns her back again, smoothing the poster against the wall. “I know it’s kind of weird, but… I don’t know. The girl that I lived with last year really liked them, and she would listen to them all of the time, so it was kind of a baptism by fire.” She laughs, gum still snapping between her teeth. She bends down and pulls something else from the cardboard box sitting on her mattress; this time it’s a University of Michigan pennant that she reaches over to hang over her dresser.

Leslie watches, finally turning to face Ann, hands on her hips. “Do you go there?”

“Yeah,” she says, not bothering to face Leslie, continuing to pull picture frames and other things out of the box that sits on her bed. “That’s where I’m from, Michigan.”

“Oh. Really? That’s cool.” Leslie smiles, straying from her own things and wandering over to Ann’s side of the room. “Why are you down here, then? You know – if you don’t mind me asking.”

“No, it’s fine,” Ann says, and Leslie can hear her smiling. “I have a couple of cousins that live in Indianapolis and they used to go here when they were in high school, so.” She dismounts her bed and Leslie watches as she arranges the top of her dresser, already looking cluttered with a spectrum of nail polishes and charm bracelets and tubes of pink and purple lip gloss. “What about you?” Ann asks, leaning against her dresser. The girls are looking at each other now, Ann’s face slowly being consumed by another bubble gum bubble. 

“I’m from Pawnee,” she says, lighting up slightly. “It’s about… a hour away from here? It’s outside of Indianapolis.”

“No, no, I’ve heard of it before,” Ann pulls a stack of bedsheets from the trunk at her feet and tosses them on the mattress. “That’s really cool. I mean, I don’t know. I always think it’s cool to hear where people are from… where they’re going… that sort of thing.”

Leslie feels a smile spread across her face and she tries to suppress it, but she can’t, and she doesn’t know why. There’s something about Ann that makes her happy and optimistic about the next three months – as if she wasn’t already excited enough about the upcoming summer. She’s sparked something inside of her that’s started at her feet and spreads up her body, out through the top her head and fingers. She feels like a lit fuse, and Ann’s the match. 

“So do you go to school around here, or -?”

“University of Indiana.” Leslie remains lit up. “It’s cool, I guess. I don’t know. I love Indiana, but I don’t know if I want to stay here.” She hears Ann giggle.

“Well, you’ve got a long time to figure that out,” she says, and it almost sounds reassuring. Leslie watches her as she unfolds her sheets and stretches herself out across the mattress in an attempt to get her fitted sheet to snap into place. “I mean, who knows, right? Maybe this summer you’ll realize that by working at Camp Wamapoke, you’ve been destined to stay in Indiana forever.” This extracts a laugh from both girls, and they look at each other, Ann turning over her shoulder and smiling. 

“I guess you’re right,” Leslie says. “Aren’t you supposed to find yourself at summer camp, anyway?”

“Exactly. I really hope all of those movies I watched in high school about people finding themselves at summer camp weren’t total bullshit.”

Leslie laughs. She pauses for a moment, trying to phrase her sentence in her head before speaking.

“They’re doing a counselor’s lunch this afternoon. I mean, I think we have to go, but I figured I’d ask, just because I don’t know if you’ve made any friends or not yet, but… do you want to go head down at grab lunch… together?” She winces slightly and Ann turns to look at her, a smile growing on her face. “I mean, I don’t know, I just figured that I’d ask… it’s kind of like college, y’know? You actually have to ask people to be your friend… weird, right? I haven’t done this kind of thing since kindergarten. Just asking people to be your friend because you like their jeans, or their nail polish, or the way they say a certain word… it’s so weird, isn’t it? And you know, I took a psych class last semester, and –“

“Leslie.” Ann’s voice cuts through Leslie’s ramblings and she stops, feeling her face get warm. Less than an hour and she’s already shown Ann, this awesome, beautiful, too-cool-for-her girl just exactly how much of a whirling blonde dervish she can be.

“Sorry,” she apologizes, shrinking slightly. Ann giggles.

“I’d love to.”

:.:.:

Leslie decides that although Ann isn’t as cool and mysterious that she thought she would be, she’s going to force herself to believe that she is, just because she’s too beautiful not to be mysterious. They walk down to the mess hall together and she learns that Ann lives in Ann Arbor with her parents who have normal jobs that Leslie can’t be bothered to remember immediately. She describes her dad as funny and her mom as beautiful, to which Leslie nods her head in agreement. She has an older sister that teaches fourth grade at her old elementary school and she dated a boy during her first semester of school who was a civil engineering major, which makes Leslie light up.

“Why did you guys break up?” She decides immediately after asking the question that it’s a bit invasive, but she’s already decided that she and Ann are going to be the best of friends once they’ve finished their lunches.

“Oh, he was just boring,” Ann says, stabbing a fork into a lumpy pasta dish that both girls think the cafeteria is trying to pass off as stroganoff. “Like, he was cute, I guess, but I just didn’t like him that much. I think I was just excited about a boy liking me and wanting to date me, so I dated him.” Leslie nods her head in agreement, following along.

“But you’re so pretty,” she says, and it just comes out. She wants to kick herself because that’s really forward, and it’s not like she has actual feelings for Ann. They’re just on a fast track to becoming friends. Friends are definitely allowed to call their friends beautiful. “I mean, I – I don’t know, I just think that you seem like the kind of person who has a lot of guys that like them.” She really hopes that doesn’t sound weird. It sounds weird when she says it. Ann’s probably going to get up and leave and spend as less time in their cabin as possible to avoid the girl who has a weird, instant friendship crush on her (which is totally a thing). 

“Thanks,” Ann says, smiling. Leslie figures that she gets that compliment a lot. “But don’t worry about it. He was a real wet blanket.”

“Oh.” Leslie smiles and grabs the rind of cantaloupe from her plate, taking a bite. “Well, you deserve better, anyway.” Ann smiles. “Although I don’t know. I’ve only known you for what, an hour?” Leslie laughs at herself. “For all I know, you’re crazy, Ann.”

The girls laugh at each other and Leslie feels her foot brush up against Ann’s underneath the table, so she moves immediately, trying not to be awkward or weird, or anything like that. Ann doesn’t seem to mind.

Leslie decides that Ann is too cool to be spending time with someone like her. She shops at Contempo Casuals and wears platform flip flops and toe rings and strawberry scented lip gloss. She smells like the Sun-Ripened Raspberry lotion from Bath & Body Works that Leslie’s mother would never let her buy because she always said it was “too perfumy,” and she sleeps in braids that crimp her hair by the time she takes them out in the morning. Leslie wonders if she should buy that lotion now. She’s got every opportunity to do so.

“Do you want to go out to the bonfire thing tonight together?” Ann asks Leslie, standing with her now empty tray in hand. Leslie snaps out of her daze and looks up at Ann, walking towards the trash. “I know that it’s supposed to make us meet all of the other counselors before we actually – y’know, start training and stuff.”

Leslie nods, a smile growing on her face. “Sure,” she says, eager. She isn’t bothering to hide her excitement anymore. She stands and busses her tray along with Ann, probably more quickly than she should. She’s bright eyed and bushy tailed and willing to follow Ann around like a lost puppy for as long as she’ll have her. “That sounds like a lot of fun.”

Ann leads them over to the icebox and slides it open, reaching inside for a popsicle. “Great,” she says, unwrapping the frozen treat and walking ahead of Leslie, looking over her shoulder as if to encourage Leslie to follow her. “Because I really want to go, I just didn’t want to go alone. I think it’s always easier to meet people when you’re with someone else.” She takes the popsicle by one of its sticks and snaps it in half, turning (spinning, really) to hand one of the popsicles to Leslie. 

“No, yeah, that makes sense,” Leslie says, taking the popsicle from Ann. They walk out of the mess hall together and Leslie watches the boys that she’ll get to know later stare at Ann, eyes wide and jaws slack as she wraps her lips around her popsicle and continues to make her way outside. She feels her heart sink – and not just because of the normal response she has towards women being objectified by men, but she can’t put her finger on it. There’s something about Ann that she wants to hold onto forever, like a photograph or a collectible baseball card. For the short amount of time that they’ve known each other, Leslie realizes that Ann is special – why, she doesn’t know.

Leslie’s hand is sticky from where her own popsicle has melted and dripped cherry juice down onto her fingers. She clumsily licks the mess off of her hand and speeds up to meet Ann. “Can’t wait.”

Ann smiles and they’re standing outside again, the sun beating down on the grass. 

:.:.:

The bonfire is small and held down by the lake, where logs sit around an old fire pit made out of rocks. Newspaper and old pine needles are used to fuel the flames, and most people sit or stand around in sweaters and shorts, making small talk with each other about where they’re from and their friends from college. Someone has a radio that they’ve brought out and are playing off in the corner. 

Leslie sits at the end of a log by herself, nursing a Cherry Coke. She had come with Ann like they had planned, but Ann’s talking with some guy who’s trying to prove to her that he knows how to skip a rock and they’re standing at the shoreline of the lake, Ann uncomfortably trying to nudge her way out of the guy’s arm every time he tries to put it around her waist. It’s funny to watch, and Leslie entertains herself for a while doing that, but it grows old pretty quickly, considering she can’t hear anything they’re saying. All of this would be much better with beer, she thinks. She wonders if any of the counselors are 21 and can go and buy them alcohol on weekends. It would make for a much more enjoyable experience.

She’s met a few of her “coworkers” for the summer (she hates the term, but she supposes that it’s the official one); Tom, a guy a year that goes to Notre Dame for business but is really more interested in becoming the next Will Smith. He’s short and kind of funny and she figures that they could be friends if she really tries. He likes rap music and spends most of their conversation trying to tell her about Ginuwine, this rapper that she doesn’t know. And Andy, a tall, kind of dopey but loveable guy who goes to University of Indiana on a football scholarship. She tries to ask him if they’ve had any professors in common, but he doesn’t seem like he goes to class very often. Nevertheless, he’s still nice, and Leslie figures he can help her kill spiders if she or Ann ever find one in their cabin.

There is one boy that she thinks she wants to talk to.

He’s tall and kind of awkward looking, but he seems really nice. He goes to some school in Minnesota for math, and he’s just been standing around the entire time, trying to make conversation with people and failing miserably. It almost makes Leslie feel bad, and she figures that she might as well go up to him and at least say hello.

She approaches him with a smile and a peace offering of one of the marshmallows from when people were making s’mores earlier.

“Hey,” she says, looking up at him with a smile. “I noticed that you were just standing here and you looked kind of bored.” He looks down at her and she smiles sheepishly. She notices that her smiles don’t come as easily with this mystery guy as they do with Ann, but that’s probably just because she’s known Ann longer (a whole twelve hours longer). “I’m Leslie,” she says, handing him her marshmallow. “I figured I’d give you this. I know it’s not a s’more, but it’s definitely the best part of the s’more.”

He laughs and takes it from her, popping it in his mouth. “I’m Ben,” he says, words sticky now that his mouth is full. He laughs and finishes, clearing his throat before continuing. “Are you another counselor here, or -?”

“Oh, yeah,” she says, stumbling over her words a bit. “I just… I figured I’d come down and meet people and say hi, and… stuff.” She feels her face get warmer and she looks away from him, trying to distract herself. Ann, she’ll look at Ann. She’s still standing down by the beach with that guy that was trying to show her that he could skip rocks, and now it looks like he’s trying to teach her how to do it, so that’s nice. “I’m looking forward to the summer.”

Ben smiles and laughs slightly, looking down at her. “Yeah, me too,” he says. “Are you from around here, or -?”

Leslie looks up at him and is about to answer him, but she’s cut off by Ann, who walks up to them, a smile stuck to her face.

“Oh,” Leslie says, excitement in her voice. “Ben, this is Ann, she’s my roommate. Ann, this is Ben. We just met.” Ann smiles sweetly.

“Nice to meet you,” Ann says, and although Leslie hasn’t known her long, she doesn’t seem as happy as she had been earlier. She instantly begins to worry that something’s happened while they’ve been separated, like someone’s insulted her or she’s suddenly come down with the stomach flu. Ann touches Leslie’s arm and they look at each other, Leslie still smiling. “I’m going to head back upstairs,” Ann says. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

Leslie watches Ann as she turns and heads back up the hill, and looks back to Ben, making the decision to follow after Ann.

“I’m sorry,” she says, turning back to Ben. “I’ll be back, I – I think. I just… I’ll see you later, actually.”

“Sure,” Ben says, laughing. He gives her a wave. “We’ve got all summer.”

Leslie turns around and looks at him, a smile growing on her face. She thinks of the plans she had made of finding a boyfriend, or something like that, while she’s working here, and it makes her heart swell. She admittedly doesn’t know this Ben guy very well, and they haven’t really shared many words together, but she likes to think that she can point out a good relationship when she sees it. She’s never really been a believer in ‘soulmates,’ but she thinks that there’s a certain spark that someone feels when they find someone they know they can be with for the rest of their life.

Like her and Ann. She’s met Ann and they’ve hit it off wonderfully and she thinks Ann is pretty and funny and smart and fun to be around. Leslie feels that she can confidently say that she and Ann could be friends for a long, long time. 

She catches up with Ann, speed walking to meet her. “Hey,” she says, almost out of breath. Ann turns and looks at her, smiling weakly. “Sorry about that.”

“No, it’s fine,” Ann says, her smile growing a bit wider. “You could have stayed down there, Leslie. I was just tired of that one guy trying to show me how to skip rocks for the past hour.”

“No, I want to walk back with you,” Leslie says, as if it’s ridiculous that she stay down and try to make small talk with a guy she likes. “I was just talking to that guy. It’s no big deal.”

There’s a beat of silence between them for a minute, feet crunching against the gravel path back up to their cabin. “He’s cute,” Ann finally says, looking over at Leslie. “Is he working here this summer?”

Leslie nods. “Yeah,” she says. “He’s kind of cute, I guess.” She pauses, thinking about it for a moment. “He didn’t really have much to say to me, though. He was really awkward.”  
She watches as a smile grows on Ann’s face. 

“Yeah, well… guys suck.”

Leslie smiles.

“Yeah. You’re right.”


	3. Chapter 3

Training, unfortunately, is incredibly boring. For whatever reason, Leslie thought that she would enjoy going over rules and regulations and getting to break in the new pack of highlighters she had picked up at the U of I Bookstore end-of-year sale, but she spends her days sitting in hot cabin classrooms (who knew there was such a thing?) staring at camp directors and wishing she could jump in the lake to cool off. 

Nights are spent down by the lake, where they’re still kept on a pretty tight leash. Leslie learns from people that have worked here in summers past that the counselors get a break when the campers show up, as the staff directs all of their energy towards making sure a bunch of high schoolers stay out of trouble instead of a bunch of college kids. People smoke cigarettes and some people talk about throwing a party at the end of the week, but Leslie decides that she won’t go. Besides, she doesn’t want to go to something that’s just going to get shut down, anyway. It doesn’t sound like a very productive use of her time. 

She normally sits next to Ann at their training sessions, who seems just as disinterested as she is. While Leslie jots down color-coded notes on conduct and policy, Ann draws hearts and flowers in the margins of her counselor handbook with a pink Marabou pen. Leslie looks over at her when she isn’t looking and smiles, or tries to count the freckles on the bridge of Ann’s nose. When they break for lunch the girls walk down to the mess hall together or decide to buy Oreos and Cherry Cokes down at the canteen and bring them up to their cabin, where they sit on the floor and spread themselves out as they get drunk on junk food and each other.

At night they pick out nail polish colors for each other and assign names to the children they think they want in the hypothetical future. Ann’s really good at braiding hair, Leslie learns, and she tries out new types of braids on Leslie’s hair when they come home for the night, both of them sitting with crossed legs on someone’s bed, Leslie in front of Ann. They talk about boys and their favorite flavors of ice cream and what they want to be when they graduate. Ann wants to be a nurse. Leslie wants to be President. 

“When I become President, I’ll make you my Surgeon General,” Leslie promises Ann one night as she looks at the crown Ann’s braided her hair into. “You’ll be the prettiest Surgeon General in the world.” She touches her hair and smiles at herself in the mirror. Ann always smiles back.

On the afternoon that they all have to discuss how to handle underage drinking, Leslie sits next to Ben, the boy from the bonfire, after Ann tells her that she’ll braid her hair if she lets her sit behind her. He tells her that he likes the X-Files button on her backpack, and she beams.

“Thanks,” she says, giving the bag a nudge with her foot. “It’s one of my favorite shows.”

“Mine too,” he says. Leslie can feel her face heat up. To distract herself, she turns over her shoulder, whipping around to look at Ann. 

“Ann, do you watch The X-Files?”

Ann looks at Leslie and Ben, a dumbfounded look on her face. “I’ve seen it a couple of times,” she says, a small smile growing onto her face. “My sister really likes it.” She leans in closer to Leslie, hands touching her shoulders. “Do you want me to do your hair now?”

Leslie smiles and turns over her shoulder, nodding as Ann threads her fingers through her hair. She tosses her head back and still looks at Ben, trying to maintain their conversation. “But, yeah, I like it a lot.” Her smiles grows as she realizes that she has an opportunity to get to know more about Ben, and actually flirt with him instead of just talking to him like he’s a friend of hers. To be fair, he really isn’t a friend – he’s still very much Cute Boy From The Bonfire, and she’d like to change that. And while she doesn’t have much experience flirting with boys, she doesn’t think it can be that hard. “I really like David Duchovny,” she says, head still tipped back as Ann loops it into a French braid. She laughs a bit before putting on a face that she thinks is smug and cool. “Y’know, you kind of look like him.”

Ben scoffs, laughing a bit. “Thanks.”

Leslie smiles and feels accomplished for a moment, causing her to try and look over her shoulder at Ann. She smiles, wordlessly offering Leslie her approval while continuing to braid her hair. Leslie giggles, looking back towards the front of the room. She feels her chest tighten as her heart swells and for the first time, she feels like she has a real shot at this – dating someone, that is. 

Later that night, she lays on her bed with her feet against the wall, watching as Ann paints her toenails on the floor, leaning against her own bed. They’re supposed to be working on the door decorations for the cabins they’re going to be seeing over, but both girls have become distracted talking about each other and how boring all of their training sessions have been for the past week.

“I really like that Ben guy,” Leslie says, staring at the ceiling. “He’s really cute, don’t you think?”

Ann doesn’t look away from her feet. “Yeah,” she says. “I think so.”

“Do you think he likes me?” Leslie tips her head back and looks at Ann – upside down, but still a clear view of her friend. “I just – I don’t know. I’ve never really had anyone like me before, and I don’t really know how to tell if someone… wants to date me.”

Her question draws a laugh from Ann. “I think he thinks you’re funny,” she offers, looking up at Leslie. “And, I don’t know, that probably means he thinks you’re cute. Because you are, Leslie.” Ann fans at her now-pink toenails. “I don’t think you give yourself enough credit.”

Leslie sits up and twists herself to look at Ann, who’s moved back to cutting little raccoons out of construction paper and gluing google eyes on them. “I mean, I think that if you like this guy… you should just go for it, y’know? You don’t know him, you don’t go to school with him…. he lives… what, two or three states away?” She draws noses on the paper raccoons with a Sharpie. “There’s nothing wrong with at least trying to see if he’d be interested in you.” Leslie smiles, feeling butterflies fill her stomach, which she doesn’t completely understand. She doesn’t need Ann’s approval to go and talk to Ben and see if he’d like to get dinner with her one night, or take a walk in the woods together. 

She may, however, need her encouragement. Or more of it, actually. She appreciates it, however much of it there is.

Leslie sighs and springs off of the bed, walking towards Ann on the floor. She joins her and crosses her legs, looking down at the scraps of construction paper sitting around Ann’s feet.

“Those are really cute,” she says. “You’re really good at that.”

Ann looks up at her and smiles.

:.:.:

Leslie becomes busy the morning the campers arrive. She likes it; being busy and thrown into the thick of things is what she thinks she’s been placed on the planet to do. Cars pull up in parking lots and teenagers file out, standing around in clumps while their parents pester them to help unload their things from the back seat. 

She’s assigned to check-in duty – which isn’t a very busy job. She stands by the stairs up to the cabins with a clipboard and places little checkmarks next to people’s names once she confirms that they’ve arrived and directs them to their cabins. It’s a lot of standing in the sun and people watching, but she likes it. 

Ann bounds down the stairs cabins and spots Leslie, touching her shoulder. “Hey,” she says, smiling. She’s snapping on a piece of gum again. “What’s up?”

Leslie jumps, surprised. She turns to look at Ann and can feel her smile spread across her face.

“Nothing,” she says, trying to lean against the railing to look cool again. She hasn’t figured out why she has this innate need to come across as ‘cool’ when she’s with Ann, but it’s there, no doubt about it. “I’m just… checking people in. With this.” She holds her clipboard up by her face and smiles. “I’m jammin’ on this check-in list.” She instantly feels stupid, realizing how dumb she sounds. Jammin’ on her check-in list? Stupid.

Ann giggles and Leslie looks at her, their faces mirroring each other. Leslie can feel herself get warmer and she writes it off as general excitement for the day ahead of her. There is something exciting about getting to know all of these new people, she thinks. She’s busy and happy and laughs all of the time now, or at least more than she used to. And there’s a boy she likes. And there’s Ann, but she doesn’t see why being around Ann would change anything about herself. Ann is a friend that she likes – that she really likes, but she’s a friend. That’s it.

It’s also pretty warm outside. It’s noon and the sun is high. It could also be that.

“Do you have another piece of gum I could borrow?” Leslie asks, her mind snapping back to the moment at hand like a rubber band. She looks up from her feet and up at Ann, hearing herself. “I mean… not to borrow, but – because that would be gross, but –“

“No, I do,” Ann says, and she reaches into her back pocket, pulling out a waxy piece of cardboard. She removes a shiny stick of gum and passes it to Leslie, smiling. “Here. Please, keep it,” she says, her voice soft and sweet. Leslie’s never really noticed it before, but she’s noticing it now. “I don’t want it back.”

The girls laugh at each other, Leslie leaning up against the railing of the stairs and Ann standing next to her. They laugh and smile and there’s a short silence between them, Leslie fighting the urge to fill it with another riff on her ‘used gum’ joke. Together, they stare out into the distance, watching as a girl approaches them. She’s dressed in black, which Leslie thinks is weird for such a hot summer day, and drags a black suitcase behind her.

“She’s coming this way,” Ann says, her voice still teasing. “Do you think she’s a camper?”

“I don’t know.”

“She looks like Wednesday Addams,” Ann says through a laugh. Leslie giggles but straightens herself up as the girl approaches, stopping in front of them.

“Welcome to Camp Wamapoke,” Leslie says through a cheery smile. “Are you checking in?”

“Yeah,” the girl says, her voice and demeanor apathetic. 

“Name?”

“April Ludgate.”

Leslie glances down at her clipboard, scanning her marked up pieces of paper for the correct name. She doesn’t look up to check, but she can feel Ann’s eyes doing the same behind her.

“Oh, here,” she says, resting her finger on the girl’s name. “You’re in B Cabin – oh, hey, that’s Ann’s cabin.” Leslie smiles and looks up. “She’ll be your counselor.”

April looks at both Leslie and Ann, scoffing. “You guys are counselors?”

Leslie and Ann exchange a look. 

“Yeah,” they say, almost simultaneously. April stifles a laugh. She pushes past them like they’re a pair of double doors and makes her way up the stairs, Leslie and Ann turning to watch her. 

“Glad she’s my problem,” Ann bites, rolling her eyes. Leslie stifles a laugh.

“Oh, come on. I’m sure she’s a very normal girl.” She smiles, her classic effervescent attitude making an appearance. “Besides, think of all of the awesome spells she’ll try to cast on you.”

Ann doesn’t look too enthused about the whole thing. Leslie looks at her, watching as her face becomes more anxious and she chews her gum faster. “Hey,” she says, a hand reaching out and touching Ann’s arm. “C’mon, you’ll be fine. We’re not babysitters. We’re camp counselors.” Leslie laughs. “It’s pretty much expected that we get drunk with these people.”

A smile slowly grows on Ann’s face, and she shrugs out of Leslie’s grip. “Yeah, I guess,” she says, a giggle caught in her voice. She looks around and takes note of the lack of campers roaming around. “I think everyone’s taken care of,” she says, even though Leslie knows it isn’t true. She knows that Ann’s trying to find a distraction from their duties, and that’s fine. Although she normally likes to stay on the straight and narrow, she’s willing to deviate this once – if it’s for Ann, anyway.

“You want to go get an ice cream, don’t you?” Leslie looks up from her clipboard and flicks her eyes over at Ann, who’s already looking at her, smiling. 

“Maybe,” Ann says. “I bet you they have your favorite kind leftover from last night.”

Leslie looks at Ann, who’s now got a dorky smile stuck to her face, all teeth. “Fine,” she says, caving. She doesn’t understand what it is about being around Ann that makes her become this different version of herself, but she likes it. “But only if they have the chocolate caramel swirl leftover.”

Ann laughs and gets a head start to the mess hall, looking over her shoulder at Leslie as she walks away. 

“C’mon!”

Leslie chases after her, laughing. She sets her clipboard down on the stairs and starts to follow Ann, a flurry of dirty sneakers and blonde hair.

She could get used to this.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi!! i'm so sorry for the delay in this chapter - i moved recently and we had trouble setting up the wifi in the new apartment/i've just been busy with life and getting a new job and everything - but anyway!! i'll definitely try to make updates more frequent as this continues.

“I want to go swimming.”

Leslie looks up from her lap, fingers still moving deftly as she looks at Ann across the cabin. Both girls are sitting at a long crafting table in the only cabin that Leslie could have been assigned to: the crafting cabin. Earlier in the week, when all of the counselors had been told that they would be assigned to a cabin during the day that would keep their best interests in mind, Leslie had dreamt up a giant personality test that would truly analyze everything about herself in order to put her the position that would best serve her campers.

Unfortunately, what Leslie thought would be comprehensive ended up being a small slip of paper slipped under her cabin door one night that simply said “circle which cabin you’d like to help run for the season!” She chose crafting. Ann chose the first aid cabin. They’re right next door to each other, so it’s really not that bad. Leslie spends her afternoons with the few campers who want to use their time making friendship bracelets and scrapbooking, and Ann bandages up people who scrape their knees playing soccer.

Sometimes during the lunch break, the girls skip going to the mess hall and meet up with each other in the crafting cabin, sharing sandwiches and canned lemonade from the canteen.

“We don’t have the time to go swimming,” Leslie says, eyes flicking back down to the bracelet she’s working on. One end is taped down to the table she shares with Ann, and the other hangs down between her legs, continuing to get braided up into a gift for Ann. Across the table, Ann’s making an identical one for Leslie, but she’s moving at a slower pace. The idea of making friendship bracelets was originally a joke between the two of them, but the more Ann brought it up, the more Leslie wanted to pounce on the opportunity and actually make a pair of them. It lead to this moment; the girls sitting and asking each other about their days so far while Ann struggles and Leslie bends herself over the table to help her out from time to time. “We have to go back to work after this, and then dinner, and then – don’t you have rehearsal for the jamboree tonight?”

Ann pouts. “Yeah,” she says, defeated. “But I don’t want to go. They wouldn’t miss me if I didn’t show up.”

“Of course they would,” Leslie says, almost too quickly. At the end of the summer, the camp holds a big jamboree, which is really just an opportunity for all of the campers to see their counselors perform in sketches and sing cheesy parody songs with references to camp culture. Everybody was required to audition, and apparently, Ann can sing. She’s one of the show’s stars. Leslie’s in charge of playing all of the music, so she’s not too important to the production as a whole. “You’re probably the only good part about the whole thing.”

Ann smiles and doesn’t say anything for a while. Leslie looks at her, but she’s not very surprised. Every time she compliments Ann, she notices, she just smiles, sometimes blushes a bit. She’s not very good at taking compliments. Leslie thinks that someone like Ann, who has compliments thrown her way all of the time, would be used to people fawning over her. Guess not.

“I don’t know,” Ann says, her smile becoming less embarrassed and more mischievous. “That Ben guy you like is pretty good. He’s funny.”

Leslie looks at Ann, confused. “Ben? My Ben?” He doesn’t seem like the kind of person that she’d find funny. “Are you serious?”

“Well, he’s not funny on purpose,” Ann says, turning back to her bracelet. “But he doesn’t have to sing.” She sighs, her voice softer. “He’s lucky.” 

“Oh, c’mon. I’m sure you have a great voice, Ann.” Leslie offers her a smile. “Otherwise they wouldn’t be making you sing.”

The girls exchange smiles.

“It’s so hot,” Ann whines. She tips he head back and groans. Leslie casts a knowing look in her direction, but Ann’s eyes are shut, face still pinched up in frustration. “I want to peel my skin off and jump in the lake.”

Leslie laughs. “Don’t do that,” she says, still looking at Ann. She doesn’t want to still be looking at her when Ann opens her eyes; it turns a look into more of a stare. And staring’s rude, so. “I wouldn’t want you to peel your skin off.”

Ann turns back to look at Leslie, smiling. She has a really contagious smile.

“Are you done with your bracelet yet?” Leslie asks, ripping the piece of masking tape off of her side of the table and later off of the pink, blue, and purple bracelet that comes with it. “Because you can’t just run around with one half of a friendship bracelet out there. That’s like, a cardinal sin.”

“I’m almost done,” Ann says, looking back down to the bracelet she’s making for Leslie. “I just… it’s tricky.”

“Oh, come on. You’re good at braids, Ann.”

“Yeah, on hair.”

Ann sighs, clearly frustrated. “Yeah, but I… wait, are you done with mine?” Leslie nods, holding up the bracelet she’s made for Ann to see. “Let me put it on. That way when I need to see how to finish yours, I just have to look down at my wrist.” She holds her hand out, waiting for Leslie to drop the bracelet in her hand, but Leslie refuses.

“You can’t put it on,” Leslie says, a smile growing on her face. “I have to put it on for you. You didn’t know that?”

Ann laughs. “No.”

“It’s, like, the number one rule of friendship bracelets.” The girls look at one another and exchange giggle-filled smiles, Ann leaning over across the table so that Leslie can reach her wrist. Leslie takes the bracelet and wraps it around Ann’s wrist, and she smiles. Ann’s hands are really soft. The more she thinks about it, however, the more she doesn’t see why they wouldn’t be. Ann’s a girl. All girls have soft hands – at least she’s pretty sure they do. Leslie’s never really held a girl’s hand before. She wears yellow nail polish and a mood ring on her ring finger.

“Is that thing accurate?” Leslie asks teasingly. Both girls look down at the mood ring on Ann’s hand, nearly knocking heads while doing so. 

Ann’s caught off guard. “No, I don’t think so,” she says, her words caught in a giggle. “It’s always blue, or, like, blue-green. I think that means calm?” She shrugs a bit. “I don’t remember.”

Leslie smiles and finally ties the ends of the bracelet into a knot around Ann’s wrist, stepping back as if she’s conquered some huge feat. “There,” she says. “Now, you have to promise to leave that on until it falls off on its own,” she says, realizing how stupid what she’s saying sounds. They both seem to take note of how childish all of this is, but they both seem to like it. It’s why they agreed to make the bracelets in the first place. “If you untie the knot or cut it, you’re doing the same thing to our friendship.”

“Okay,” Ann says, her voice almost in a whisper. Leslie likes it; it makes her feel like they’re both keeping a secret from each other. “I promise.”

The girls laugh, Ann returning back to her side of the table to retrieve her bracelet for Leslie. “I’ve got to head back to the first aid office,” she says, a hint of boredom stuck in her voice, “but I’ll finish it there. I promise.” She backs away from the table and begins making her way towards the door. Outside, the bell rings, signaling all of the campers to head to whatever cabin they’ve been assigned to for the day. “I’ll see you at dinner?”

“Okay,” Leslie says, almost dumbfounded. “I’ll see you then.”

:.:.:

Leslie’s running late for dinner. She had originally planned to head to the mess hall straight from the crafting cabin, but she had been delegated to throw out a bag of garbage behind the main hall before heading down to eat.

As she treads through the overgrown dandelions by the dumpsters, she thinks of Ann and the bracelets they’ve made for each other – not so much the bracelets themselves, really, but the unusual feeling she felt in her chest when she was tying the one she had made around Ann’s wrist, and they were standing so close to one another, even with a table separating them. It was the same feeling she feels when she’s around Ben, only it’s more intense – and she doesn’t even know if that’s the right word to describe it, but it’s definitely in the same realm as what she feels when Ben smiles at her, or compliments her on her X-Files button.

There’s a small part of her that wonders if she has a crush on Ann. After all, Ann is very pretty and nice and smart. When she goes in to hug Leslie, she smells like coconut or vanilla or oranges. She likes it when Ann comes up from the washrooms and still smells of roses, or raspberries, or whatever her shampoo is supposed to smell like (Leslie hasn’t figured it out yet). She likes the scrunchies Ann wears in her hair and the way she smiles at nearly everything Leslie says, whether funny or not. She enjoys Ann’s company and thinks she’s all of the things that are good in the world. 

She knows that girls can have crushes on other girls. It’s not a foreign idea; this is the nineties. She’s just never really felt this way about any of the other girls she’s known, or at least she doesn’t think she has. She has plenty of friends, and they’re all good friends, she just –

“What are you doing back here?”

Leslie jumps, half surprised, half terrified. Standing behind the dumpsters is April, smoking a cigarette. She looks at Leslie, exhaling and blowing smoke in her face. 

“You scared me,” Leslie says, trying to catch her breath. It takes her a moment to process April standing behind the dumpsters, smoking. “You’re supposed to be inside,” she says, looking at the girl. Leslie drops the bag of garbage at her feet so she can cross her arms over her chest. She thinks it makes her look more intimidating. “You’re lucky I don’t report you.”

“You won’t report me,” April says, her voice flat. She blows more smoke in Leslie’s face. “Besides, where’s your girlfriend?”

Leslie feels her mouth become dry. “W-What?”

“That girl you were with on check-in day, and every other day, I guess. With the bangs? You guys are always with each other.” April rolls her eyes. “You’re like, best friends, right?”

“Oh,” Leslie says, fingers tingling. “Oh, uh, yeah, we’re friends. Why?”

“No reason,” April says. She ashes her cigarette on a dumpster. “You guys are just always together, that’s all.” She laughs to herself and Leslie watches her, cautious. “What, you thought I was saying you two were actual girlfriends?”

“No,” Leslie says, trying to come off cooler than she is. She’s not very good at that. “We’re just… friends. We met here.”

“Oh,” April says. “That’s kind of too bad, I guess. You guys would make a really cute couple.”

Leslie looks at April, trying to hide her confusion. There’s a small part of her that swells when April says what she does, and maybe she feels that way for a reason. She really doesn’t know – and for her, that’s the scary part.

“You should get to dinner,” Leslie says, hurling the bag of garbage she’s brought with her over her head. It lands squarely in the dumpster behind April. “And smoking kills, you know.”

April suppresses a laugh, blowing smoke in Leslie’s direction again. “Yeah,” she says, careless. She drops the cigarette to the ground, stomping it out with her boot. “I’ll see you later.”

:.:.:

Leslie meets Ann for dinner and they sit in the back at the counselor’s table, poking through wilted salad and gummy macaroni and cheese. Leslie spends her time watching Ann’s hands, trying to see if her mood ring has changed colors from earlier in the afternoon.

“Leslie,” a voice says, calling from across the room. Both Leslie and Ann look up and see Tom approaching them, tray in hand. Leslie hasn’t decided that she doesn’t like Tom, but he’s kind of annoying. He likes Ann, which she thinks is funny, because Ann really doesn’t like him. She doesn’t say anything, though. Leslie’s too nice to break that kind of news to anyone. 

Tom sits down next to Ann, who tries to hide her scowl by taking a bite of her food. “How’s it hangin’?”

“Oh, uh, we were just gonna head out of here, Tom,” Leslie says, trying to save Ann from what she’s sure is one of the last places she wants to be. “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” he says, confused. “I just wanted to make sure that you still wanted to be in charge of the music for the jamboree.” Leslie turns to look at him. He looks kind of desperate. “And, y’know, if you needed any help or anything.”

Ann snorts. “Oh, c’mon, Tom, costume detail is a really honorable job to have.” Leslie tries to hide her smile. 

“I didn’t know you got put on costumes,” Leslie says, smiling. “That can’t be that hard, though, can it?”

“It’s making sure people are dressed,” Tom exclaims, leaning against the table. “I have to sit around with a bunch of safety pins and bobby pins.”

“It’s a one-night summer camp thing,” Ann says, laughing. “I don’t even know why they want people in costumes to begin with.”

“I know.” Leslie looks at Tom, trying to empathize. “You don’t have to remind me.”

“Look, it can’t be that bad,” Leslie says, a hand reaching out to touch Tom’s shoulder. He looks at her, half confused, half disgusted, and she pulls her hand back quickly. She waits a moment, and then, hidden in a grumble, she caves. “If it really makes you feel better, I’ll let you pick out a few songs to play before the show starts.”

He turns to her, eyes wide and mouth hanging open in a smile.

“Really?”

Ann laughs.

“Yeah. You can be, like, a DJ. I’ll just press play.”

Tom’s smile grows even wider (Leslie doesn’t think it can fit on his face if it grows any bigger). “Thank you, Leslie. You’re the best. A real life saver.” He stands with his tray and starts to make his way across the mess hall, spotting a tall boy with crazy hair. He’s another counselor, and Leslie thinks they’re friends. They spend all of their time together. Tom pauses before leaving completely, however, and turns over his shoulder.

“And Ann, just in case you were still looking for a date to any kind of party, or dance, or anything like that –“

“No, Tom.”

“Just checking.”

Leslie laughs as Ann hides her face in her hands. “Hey, at least you have someone that likes you.” They look at each other, Leslie offering Ann a smile as she looks up at her, pouting.

“Tom doesn’t count,” Ann groans, a laugh finding its way out. “And besides, you have plenty of people that like you. I like you.” She smiles. “Ben likes you.”

“He does not.”

“Oh, he so does,” Ann says, almost teasingly. “Just the way you guys talk to each other… you should get his number, or something.” She plays with the straw in her near-empty glass of Coke absentmindedly. “You guys can keep in touch once all of this is over.”

Leslie looks at Ann and watches as she tries to find her straw with her mouth instead of picking up her glass like a normal person, and laughs as she misses, her tongue desperately trying to wrap around the piece of plastic. It’s funny, and Ann’s clearly not doing it for comedic effect – most of the time when Ann tries to make a joke or do something funny on purpose, it doesn’t really work. She’s much funnier when it’s on accident – moments like this one. 

Ann laughs and eventually gets the straw into her mouth, Leslie watching her mouth. She looks away as soon as it registers in her head that she’s watching Ann’s lips. That’s not really… normal. 

Their laughter subsides and Ann’s eyes follow something behind Leslie, her eyes wide. “Don’t look now, but he’s right behind you,” she says, tapping the table excitedly with her hand and forcing Leslie to turn around. Sure enough, walking to the freezer is Ben, looking the way he always does. It’s really kind of difficult to keep up a unique look when they’re all supposed to wear their camp t shirts every day. Everyone kind of looks the same.

(Ann somehow looks pretty unique. She always has a scrunchie in her hair or a new shade of lip gloss on or something that makes her stand out from everyone else.)

“Go talk to him,” Ann urges, and before she knows it Leslie is on her feet, walking behind Ben and trying to figure out what it is she’s going to say to him.

She doesn’t know. Leslie Knope is rarely at a loss for words. This, however, is one of those rare moments where she is.

:.:.:

Because she only has to worry about lining up audio cues for the jamboree, Leslie doesn’t have to be at rehearsal until the final week of camp – which is sometime in mid-August. She has plenty of time to kill and lay around the cabin that she and Ann share until then. 

She almost wishes that she had some kind of homework she needed to complete for the next day. It would give her something to do.

Sometimes she lays on her bed and stares over at the Spice Girls poster on Ann’s side of the room. She tries to imagine herself and the rest of her friends as one of the Spice Girls, mentally figuring out who would be which one if they were all to go as the Spice Girls for Halloween, or a concert. Ann’s definitely Posh Spice, she thinks, or maybe Scary Spice. No, maybe that April girl is Scary Spice. She’s definitely scary, that’s for sure. There aren’t any girls that they’ve met at the camp with red hair, so Ginger Spice is up in the air, and Sporty Spice is another one she can’t pin down. Maybe there are too many roles for Leslie to cast her own version of the Spice Girls. She needs to pick something with just two women – the Indigo Girls, maybe? Or Cyndi Lauper and Madonna – she could be Cyndi Lauper, and Ann could be Madonna. They could sing Time After Time together and everyone would praise Leslie for her uniqueness and Ann for her general worldwide appeal. Come to think of it, Cyndi Lauper and Madonna never sang a song together. She would have to write a new song for them to sing together – her and Ann, not Cyndi Lauper and Madonna. She could probably commission Tom to do something like that.

Or something like that. She really needs to get out more. 

Before she completely becomes consumed with her own thoughts, the screen door crashes open and Ann walks inside, smiling. Leslie sits upright in her bed.

“Hi,” both girls say, their voices lapping over each other. They laugh at their mistake and Ann leans against a dresser, looking down at her feet. She looks tired. 

“Do you want to come on a walk with me?” She asks, looking back up at Leslie. “I know it’s late, but –“

“No,” Leslie says, immediately sliding out of bed. She searches the floor for her sneakers with her feet. “That sounds like fun.”

:.:.:

They walk around the back end of the campgrounds, where Ann tells Leslie that she’s found a new trail after wandering around one morning before breakfast.

“I didn’t know you did that,” Leslie says, surprised. Ann laughs.

“I don’t do it all of the time,” she says. “Just when I wake up too early for breakfast.” She smiles and looks down at her feet as she walks. “I’d ask you to come with me, Leslie, but you’re always asleep.” She giggles to herself. “And you’re a really sound sleeper.”

“Oh. Well, you could probably just wake me up anyway,” Leslie says, laughing. “That sounds like fun.”

They walk and talk and even though the only real light they can see each other by is the moon, Leslie can tell that Ann’s smiling at what she says. She can almost hear it in her voice, and she wonders if Ann can do the same with her. They laugh about how much the food sucks and Leslie asks Ann about rehearsals for the jamboree. Ann directs them to what Leslie can only assume is the opposite side of the campground – there’s a long dock that juts out into the lake. It makes her wonder how far they’ve strayed from their cabin. It didn’t seem like that long of a walk, but, y’know, they were talking, so that always makes things go faster.

Ann suggests that they walk out onto the dock and Leslie follows after her, not thinking. They both sit down on the edge and pull their shoes off, dipping their feet in the water. They sit and talk and laugh and Leslie feels comfortable. The only reason she notices is because every time she’s around Ann now, there’s always a nagging fear in the back of her head that she won’t one day.

And not uncomfortable in the sense that “I need to get away from you because you are dangerous,” but uncomfortable in the sense that she doesn’t understand why she feels the way she does when she’s around Ann, or sees her smile or hears her laugh. It’s weird and it confuses her, and she doesn’t want to risk the friendship she has with Ann in order to sort out whatever conflicting feelings she may have.

Her mind is brought back down to Earth as Ann kicks her leg, splashing Leslie.

“Hey,” Ann says, turning to look at Leslie. “You’re like, a million miles away.”

“Oh.” Leslie nervously fixes her hair and laughs. “Sorry. I was just… I don’t know. It’s really pretty out.” She tries to find an excuse that she hopes Ann will buy. “I don’t even have a lot on my mind, or anything like that, so I don’t really… have an excuse.”

Ann smiles. “That’s okay.”

Leslie rests her head on Ann’s shoulder, and feels herself loosen up. She feels like she’s melting into Ann’s side. It’s unusual and uncomfortable but reassuring all at the same time, and that worries her. She worries that she’ll never be able to capture a moment like this ever again.

“Hey,” Ann says, her voice soft. Leslie feels like she’s telling her a secret. “Do you want to do something fun?”

Leslie turns her head, keeping it perched on Ann’s shoulder. She stares up at her, eyes wide. “What?”

“Remember how I said I wanted to go swimming earlier?” Leslie can feel Ann’s smile grow against her head where Ann’s cheek meets her hair. “We should go swimming right now.”

Ann stands, careful to mind Leslie’s head as she walks back to the front of the dock after grabbing her shoes. Leslie watches her as she throws them in the sand, eyes trained on what’s really just her silhouette. It’s dark outside and they can’t see every part of each other. 

“Come here,” Ann says, her voice falling into a whisper. She giggles and Leslie stands, following her back to the beach. 

“What are you doing?” Leslie asks, confused. She watches Ann and sees her raise her arms over her head, her shirt falling down by her shoes shortly after. Suddenly, everything clicks. “Oh, my god, Ann, you can’t do that!” She looks away, and she doesn’t know why she does – they live together. It’s not like they haven’t changed in front of each other before. Besides, it’s dark out. They can barely see, and they’re standing about five feet away from one another.

“Who said I couldn’t?” Ann laughs and is now down to her underwear, Leslie still trying to look away. She watches Ann pull her hair from its ponytail and reach behind her back to unhook her bra, and Leslie covers her eyes, feeling her face flush. She’s never felt this warm in her entire life.

“Oh, my god!” She cries, trying to mask her confusion with a laugh. “Ann, I know we’ve only known each other for four weeks, or something like that, but I don’t think that we know each other well enough to go skinny dipping with each other.”

There’s a long pause before she can hear footsteps on the dock again, but they’re faster in pace than before, like running. There’s a scream followed by a loud splash, and Leslie pokes out from between her fingers, trying to see if she’s in the clear or not.

“Leslie,” she hears, and she crosses her arms over her chest. Out in the water, there’s Ann – or her head, rather, coming up for air. She’s laughing and Leslie looks down at the pile of Ann’s clothes at her feet before looking out at her friend again, smiling like an idiot as she treads water. “Come on,” she shouts. “It’s fun.”

Leslie purses her lips and casts a look back at Ann’s clothes again. She must wear the nerves well on her face, because Ann’s laughing. “You can do it in your underwear if you want,” she pleads. “It’s just like wearing a swimsuit.”

She suddenly feels like she did years ago, before she met Ann – like how she did in high school, all short and scrawny and freckled and amounting to close to nothing. It feels like changing for gym class in middle school, where all of the girls would secretly compare themselves to one another, even though none of them would ever admit to doing it. She wonders if those same rules still apply now that she’s technically an adult – it doesn’t feel like it, but she’s 20. She’s an adult. 

It takes all of the courage she can summon inside of herself to do it, but she finally squeaks out a “fine.” She pinches her eyes shut and can hear Ann laughing from the lake. It feels like if she opens her eyes, all of this will have been a dream, and she’ll be lying in bed, ready to face the morning ahead of her.

She opens her eyes, just in case. It’s definitely not a dream.

“C’mon,” Ann urges, and Leslie looks around, as if there’s other people around to watch her strip down to nothing.

“Turn around,” she orders, and Ann opens her mouth in rebuttal, but Leslie jumps on top of her. “Turn around!”

Ann sighs and does as she’s told, giggling. “Okay, okay. God, fine.” Leslie watches what she’s pretty sure is Ann in the lake, double checking to make sure that she’s in the clear to change – well, not change, but that’s the word she uses in her head. She tears off her shirt and shorts and is standing in her underwear, slowly stepping out onto the dock. She feels those feelings she had been feeling earlier about Ann in the day pulse through her body. She’s reminded of the conversation she had with April, by the dumpsters. This is definitely something someone does with their girlfriend – not their girlfriend that they have sleepovers and get makeovers with, but their actual girlfriend. Significant other girlfriend. 

She feels her stomach begin to tie itself into a knot the more she thinks about it, but the more she lets her mind wander, the more she wonders if Ann is just as much to blame for all of this as she is. Maybe Ann likes her, and maybe this is her weird way of showing it. 

(Well, it’s really not that weird. It’s a very adult way of showing that you like someone, Leslie thinks. She forgets that they’re both adults sometimes.)

Leslie reaches behind her back and slowly unclips her bra, tossing it on the dock beneath her. 

“Are you coming?” Ann asks. Leslie looks up to check and make sure that her back is still turned to her – it is. 

“Y-Yeah,” Leslie stammers, jumping a bit. “I’ll be right in.” 

She thinks she’ll be okay. After all, it’s just swimming. It’s easy enough. 

Leslie jumps in the water once she’s down to nothing and feels like she’s underwater for longer than she is. It’s like a car crash; every second feels like an hour. She surfaces and pushes her hair from eyes, treading water as she searches for Ann. 

They find each other and both laugh, and that feeling that Leslie had been experiencing earlier, but trying to ignore, blooms.


	5. Chapter 5

“I just want to tell you something.”

“Say it, anything.”

“You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”

“You are too.”

“Can I kiss you?”

Leslie looks up at Ann, waiting. 

“Ann.”

“Oh, sorry. Uh, yes. No, wait – I don’t say anything. That’s the end of the scene.” Leslie rolls her eyes and throws Ann’s script over onto her bed. Ann picks it up and flips through its tattered pages, breezing past highlighted passages and penciled-in stage directions. “It’s supposed to be all dramatic, like a soap opera.” She sighs. “It’s supposed to be funny, I guess.”

Leslie doesn’t want to say anything, but judging by the way Ann’s been delivering her lines just now, it’s not going to come across as very funny. Leslie’s never really found Ann to be funny, at least not on purpose. She’s funny on accident, like when she pronounces something incorrectly or makes a face over something stupid that someone’s said, thinking that no one will notice.

She was really funny a few days ago, when they had taken that walk to the opposite side of the campgrounds and had gone for their impromptu swim. It wasn’t really funny, actually, it was just spontaneous. Leslie’s never been in a situation like that – not with a boy or a girl.

(She really isn’t sure whether or not to refer to people she knows and herself as boys and girls or men and women. She only feels like she earns the title of ‘woman’ every once in a while. She’s twenty and very much still feels like a girl.)

“Who’s this scene with, anyway?” Leslie asks, watching Ann as she looks through her script, mouthing words to herself. 

“Ben,” Ann says, uninterested. “And it’s really not that funny.” She sounds defeated. “It’s really dumb.”

“No,” Leslie says, trying to sound supportive, but Ann looks up at her, eyebrows raised, face twisted up in confusion. “Okay, fine, it’s not funny. But at least you only have to do it once.”

They share a look of desperation before breaking into a fit of giggles, Ann covering her face with her script. “I just don’t want to do it,” she says, falling back onto her bed. “It’s going to be stupid.”

“No,” Leslie says, consoling her. She’s usually better at making her friends feel good, but she’s noticed that when she’s around Ann, things are different. Everything is both more difficult and easier than it’s ever been before. She doesn’t even know how any of that makes sense, but it does – in her mind, anyway. It’s easy to talk to Ann. It’s hard to figure out what to say. “I mean, it’ll be weird, but it won’t be stupid.” She offers a sympathetic smile. “Not if you’re in it.”

Ann turns and looks at Leslie, a smile spreading across her face. “You’re sweet,” she says, her voice soft. “But you don’t have to lie to me, Leslie.”

“I’m not lying,” Leslie says, and she slides off of her own bed to sit on Ann’s. She lays down and they’re next to each other, and Leslie can feel her heart feel like it’s beating outside of her chest. She doesn’t know why, either – she’s done this with other girls before. It’s normal, and she feels like she shouldn’t be feeling this way. About Ann, of all people. “I think you’ll be just fine. Who cares if the show sucks?” Leslie settles in next to Ann, and now they’re definitely lying next to each other, Leslie’s head resting against Ann’s shoulder and Ann’s head on Leslie’s. They probably look adorable. 

She feels like she can feel the smile that radiates off of Ann, and when she tips her head up to look at her she knows that she was right, because Ann’s lips have turned up into a smile that covers her face. 

“Thanks,” Ann says, and they lay there for a while, the hum of the old ceiling fan and crickets chirping filling their silence. Leslie’s eyes fall shut and for a moment, she takes in the smell of Ann’s shampoo, the feel of her camp t shirt under her cheek, and has to tell herself not to wrap her arms around Ann in a hug. Or, maybe she should. Maybe she should get all of her feeling out in the open and hope that something sticks instead of Ann running away and never coming back.

“Oh,” Leslie hears, and it jolts her back to life. Ann sits up slightly and turns over to her nightstand, opening its drawer. “I meant to give this to you when I finished it, but I kept on forgetting.” Leslie sits up and looks at Ann, crossing her legs beneath her. Ann turns back to face her, still smiling. In her hands in the friendship bracelet she had been working so hard to finish, the twin of which Leslie’s already finished and tied around Ann’s wrist. “I finally finished this.”

Leslie smiles – first at the bracelet, and then at Ann. The one directed at Ann lasts a bit longer. “Wow,” she says, feigning shock. Ann giggles. “It’s so pretty.”

The girls laugh and Ann takes Leslie’s arm, wrapping the bracelet around it and tying it off. Leslie smiles, and her heart does that thing again where it feels like it’s going to jump up her throat and fall out of her mouth. 

“There,” Ann says, looking up at Leslie with a smile. Her teeth sink down into her bottom lip and Leslie stares at her face, counting the freckles that are scattered across her nose. “I hope it’s tight enough.” 

“It is,” Leslie says, almost too quickly. “I mean, I think it is.”

“Good,” Ann says, settling herself back on her bed again. She holds her hand out in front of her, almost like she’s showing off an engagement ring. “Now we match.”

Leslie reclines back into Ann’s side, holding up her own hand to match Ann’s. Both girls smile, turning to each other. Leslie laughs nervously. Ann’s lips are dangerously close to her own and the idea of leaning over and kissing them plagues her brain. 

“Oh, Ann,” she says instead, wrapping her hands around Ann’s arm and pulling herself closer. “I think you’re my best friend.” She closes her eyes and rests her head against Ann’s shoulder. “I love you.”

Ann giggles. “I love you too,” she says.

:.:.:

Leslie and Ann spend their Saturday stretched out on the grass by the lake. The sun is high and the sky is blue and Leslie can feel her hair getting lighter and the freckles growing on her shoulders. They alternate between reading magazines (Ann, Cosmopolitan; Leslie, The Economist) and sharing stories of their friends back home. Leslie teaches Ann how to tie a bunch of different knots that she remembers from her days in the Pawnee Goddesses, and Ann teaches Leslie how to pit cherries using a drinking straw. Leslie lays on her stomach and Ann props her head up against her back, the two of them fitting together like puzzle pieces. 

They sip on iced teas and eat cherries that Ann’s stolen from the mess hall. For a moment, Leslie imagines herself growing a spine and turning to Ann to ask her if she’d ever want to go on a walk, or get ice cream from the mess hall and sit on the end of the dock again like they did that one time, or anything else that vaguely resembles the word that she’s afraid to say: a date. She’s afraid that Ann won’t feel the same way, or will laugh and brush it off like it’s nothing, or worse, not even understand what it is that she means when she says “date.” She’s never really asked a girl out before. She imagines it’s not too different from asking a boy out, but it’s not necessarily expected of her. They’re best friends. When you go on a date with your best friend, it’s usually just lunch or dinner and a movie – no kissing or anything like that attached to it.

She does, however, really want to kiss Ann. That kind of scares her.

It’s also kind of difficult to go on anything that resembles a date as long as they’re stuck on the campgrounds. She doesn’t keep her ear to the ground as well as Ann does when it comes to camp gossip, but apparently, there have already been quite a few romances that have sprung up between counselors and campers alike, and they have all of the same shitty date options at their disposal as she does. There’s definitely more to dating than just going back to someone’s cabin and making out all night, right?

(Although, the more she thinks about it, the more that’s totally fine. Welcomed, actually.)

Leslie quickly realizes that her mind has wandered off and she’s been staring at the same page of her magazine for the past ten minutes. She looks around to make sure that no one’s noticed, and then quickly turns the page, trying to focus on her magazine instead of how much she wants to kiss Ann. It’s not very fun.

She looks up from her magazine again after seeing April walk past, not noticing her. She doesn’t know how she feels yet about April – she’s pretty sure that April hates her, but that’s probably just because she’s her counselor. Well, Ann’s her counselor, but she probably hates her because she lumps Ann and herself together as one unit. But Leslie kind of likes her, even though she won’t directly admit it to herself. She’s very smart and seems like the kind of person that’s really nice once you get to know them (or go out to breakfast with them; whatever comes first). 

Leslie watches her as she walks across the lawn, Andy following close behind her. Leslie pushes her sunglasses to the top of her head and stares at them for a while, confused. She’s never seen them together. Or, maybe she just hasn’t noticed them together. She doesn’t really pay attention to those kinds of things.

“Ann,” she says, her voice hushed and pointed. She rolls over slightly and nudges Ann’s shoulder, and the girls lay down next to one another, both on their stomachs, staring at Andy and April without trying to look too obvious.

“Do you think they’re dating?”

Ann giggles. “I don’t know. You think they are?”

“I don’t know.” Leslie feels a smile grow on her face. “They look like they are.”

The girls lay there for a while, staring at Andy and April without trying to be painfully obvious (and failing). They lean into each other and giggle, quickly ducking down behind their magazines as they see Andy approaching them. 

“Leslie,” he says, a smile spreading across his face. His eyes move over to Ann. “Oh, and Ann. Hey.”

“Hey,” both girls say, almost in unison. Leslie smiles.

“I don’t know if anyone’s told you guys yet, but there’s a huge party tonight,” Andy says, lowering his voice. He’s still unable to contain his clear excitement for what he’s saying. “In the basement of the rec center.” He beams, as if he should be proud for orchestrating the entire thing (which Leslie highly doubts is true). “Mouse the word.”

“It’s mums the word,” Leslie says, and Ann suppresses a laugh. 

“I don’t think we’ll be able to make it,” Ann says, offering Andy a sympathetic smile. “We’re both pretty busy, and –“

“We’ll be there,” Leslie interrupts, sporting a mischievous grin on her face. She can feel Ann’s eyes burning holes in the side of her head, and she doesn’t bother to look at her. “What time does it start?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Like, an hour after lights out.”

“Awesome,” Leslie says, nodding. “See you then.”

Andy offers them some kind of dopey wave before heading off again, and Leslie turns to Ann. She doesn’t look very happy – but she doesn’t look upset, either? It’s hard to tell. Leslie’s decided that Ann can be very hard to read sometimes.

“We’re not going to that party.”

“Yes, we are,” Leslie says, throwing an arm over Ann and grabbing her by the shoulder, pulling her close. She manages to extract a giggle from her friend. “We’re going to go to this party, and you’re going to do my hair and make it look really pretty, and you can wear that one blue dress you have that’s really pretty, and we’re going to have an amazing time.”

Ann looks at her, almost apprehensively.

“Okay,” she finally says, leaning in to Leslie and giving her a nudge. “I guess it sounds like fun.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> man.... it has been A While since this was last updated!! for that, i do apologize - my summer ended up being a chaotic (but wonderfully fun!!) mess of working two jobs and keeping veryvery busy. and now i'm back at school which will prove to be even more chaotic but!! here's a very long-awaited (and worth the wait, at that ((i think c:)) ) update!!

Leslie wishes that she had a better way to see herself. In getting ready, she realizes that she misses her bathroom mirror and counter space back home, or the floor length mirrors in the hallway at the dorms at school. Here, she’s stuck to using Ann’s mirror that’s usually sitting on her dresser, but is now on the floor of their cabin, tipped up at an angle where Leslie can catch her reflection in the corner of her eye if she looks hard enough.

“Leslie,” Ann says, a giggle punctuating her words. “Sit still.”

Leslie tears her eyes away from her reflection in the mirror and looks back at Ann. “Sorry,” she apologizes, straightening herself up. “Do you need me to close my eyes, or -?”

“Just don’t move as much,” Ann says. Her hand reaches for a makeup brush from the pile of her things on the floor, Leslie’s eyes following along. “You’re like a little kid.” Ann smiles. “You never stop moving.”

Ann’s wrangled Leslie into letting her do her makeup for the night. Although they’ve both agreed that this is just a stupid party for them to go to so they can get drunk, Leslie had told Ann that they might as well look nice for such an event – or at least nicer than usual, since they spend most of their time wearing camp t shirts and their hair in messy ponytails. Because of that, Ann had asked Leslie if she could do her hair and makeup, which Leslie reluctantly agrees to. 

It’s why she’s trying to steal so many glances of herself in the mirror. She still doesn’t know what she looks like and it’s not that it worries her, but it definitely makes her anxious.

Ann pops open a compact of powder blue eyeshadow and rubs the brush she holds between her fingers in it, asking Leslie to close her eyes. “Are you excited?” She asks, the excitement apparent in her voice. Leslie tries to hide her smile – in part because she doesn’t want to mess Ann up while she’s doing her makeup, but mainly because she doesn’t want her still-evolving feelings for her friend to become obvious in any way whatsoever.

“I guess,” she says, doing that thing where she tries to come off as nonchalant. Ann’s told her that she does that a lot. “I mean, it’ll be nice to actually go to a party.” She waits for a moment, thinking to herself. “Where there’s alcohol.”

The girls giggle. “Yeah,” Ann agrees, and Leslie laughs. “If Ben’s there, do you think you’re going to talk to him?”

Leslie doesn’t say anything – mainly because she doesn’t know what to say. She hasn’t talked to Ben in a long time. She doesn’t know exactly why, either. She’s sure it has something to do with Ann and how she likes her now, and how she’s incredibly confused about her feelings for Ann and what all of that means, but she doesn’t want to tell Ann any of that. For someone who’s always been proud of her ability to be honest and direct with people, she sure isn’t honest with Ann. At least she doesn’t think so. She’s still kind of confused by what she should be doing about any of this.

“Maybe,” she says, and she opens her eyes, feeling Ann back away from her. “I don’t really know. If I find him there, I guess.”

Ann offers her a smile. “You look awesome.” She leans back a bit, admiring her work. Leslie fidgets across the floor and looks at her reflection in the mirror, admiring herself. She touches the parts of her hair that have been crimped and bats her mascara-covered lashes. She looks pretty. And it’s not to say that she’s never felt pretty, because Leslie’s never really run into those kinds of problems, but seeing herself look like this in front of Ann makes her entire body become stiff. 

“Wow,” Leslie says, the only words that she seems to manage. “I feel like one of the Spice Girls.” She stands and looks down at herself, taking in the full picture. She’s borrowed a miniskirt of Ann’s and has tucked her Clinton/Gore ’92 into its waistband. Ann told her that it made her look smart, would be a good conversation starter, and that it brings out her eyes, given the fact that it’s blue. She looks nice.

Ann smiles and stands, walking over to her dresser. She’s decided against the blue dress that Leslie would have picked and instead wears a pink velvet dress that clings to her frame and sandals that buckle around her ankles that make her legs look like they go on forever. Leslie watches her as she walks back, a tube of lip gloss pressed to her mouth. “Let me grab my keys and we can go.” Her words are difficult to make out as her mouth hangs half open, but Leslie manages. 

Her eyes follow the bracelet tied off on Ann’s wrist – the one hidden underneath charm bracelets that matches the one on her own wrist. Leslie’s hand absentmindedly moves over to touch the bracelet on her own wrist, feeling a smile grow on her face.

“Are you ready?”

She comes to, looking at Ann. She looks really nice, too. 

“Yeah.”

:.:.:

The party they’ve been invited to is much more well thought out than either Leslie or Ann have anticipated. The normally drab and empty rec center basement (which isn’t that big of a building to begin with, but it’s something) has been strung up with twinkling lights that seem to pulse along with the Jock Jams CD someone’s thrown on the stereo system in the corner. Pink and blue gel light covers have been stolen from upstairs and have been used to cover the fluorescent lights in the ceiling, making the basement look more like a nightclub that the dingy basement of summer camp’s rec center. 

Someone’s taken a beer pong table and turned it into a makeshift bar, with a counselor that Leslie recognizes but doesn’t remember the name of standing behind what looks like endless handles of vodka and tequila and mixers, along with a big bowl of punch with a ladle sticking out of the top. It explains the five dollar cover charge that Leslie and Ann are surprised with when they try to get in. 

“I didn’t think we’d have to pay,” Ann grumbles, reaching for her purse. Leslie’s hand moves over and touches Ann’s, shaking her head.

“Don’t worry about it,” she says, smiling slightly. “I’ll get it.” Leslie reaches for her own purse and passes the person standing at the door a ten dollar bill. She can feel Ann smiling behind her. She thinks it’s funny how she knows what Ann’s doing, even when she can’t see her. At first, it seemed like something that was stupid and trivial, guessing that her friend was smiling when her back was turned to her – but more often than not, when Leslie’s turned around to check, Ann’s smiling, in a very candid and surprised way. The kind of smile that looks the best in a photograph.

Sometimes Leslie wishes she carried a camera around her neck so that she could grab it and take a snapshot of Ann smiling when she thinks that she isn’t looking, freezing her forever in a cheap snapshot that she could prop up on her desk when she got back to school in the fall. She hasn’t kicked the part of herself that wants to hold on to Ann forever. She doubts she ever will.

People stand around, red Solo cups in hand, leaning against the wall or standing in pods towards the center of the room. Leslie stands on her toes, trying to find someone she recognizes. She and Ann both get cups of punch and stand around for a while, trying to entertain themselves. 

“Some party,” Ann says, casting her eyes across the room. Leslie can hardly hear her over the music being blasted. She can’t believe that no one can hear them from outside – then again, that’s probably why this whole thing is being thrown in a basement.

“Oh, it’s not that bad,” she says, trying to put a positive spin on things. “It’s only eleven. No one’s drunk yet.” She brings her cup up to her lips and tips it back, eyes going wide. She coughs a bit, the drink hitting her a bit harder than she had anticipated. “See?” Ann laughs at her. “Just do that, and you’ll be fine.”

The girls look at one another and smiles break out on their faces. They turn away from one another only for a moment, bringing their cups up to their lips to take sips, Leslie hoping that her drink will kick start some kind of courage in her to at least reach out and grab Ann’s hand, or something. That doesn’t seem too aggressive. 

“Hey,” Leslie hears, and it’s Ann, her voice cutting through the music and growing noise of chatter from fellow counselors (Leslie’s standing closet to her than usual, for this reason and for others). “There’s Ben.” She gestures over towards a corner of the room with her cup, Leslie’s eyes following along. Sure enough, there’s Ben, sipping from his own drink and scanning over the party with what looks like the same trepidation as her. A small smile grows on her face and she offers him a small wave as they see each other from across the room. He reciprocates.

“Did you ever get anywhere with him?” Ann asks, and Leslie turns to look at her, surprised with the genuine curiosity in her voice. 

“No,” Leslie says, a bit too quickly. “I didn’t really try, though, to be fair.” She smiles, trying to look like she’s having a tough time accepting defeat. She’s not lying. She didn’t really try with Ben. And there are parts of her that still like to entertain the idea of her going on dates with him and eating ice cream late at night while sitting at the end of the dock with him and kissing him and tasting summer, but they aren’t as strong as the parts of her that want to do all of those same things with Ann. “But, y’know, whatever.”

She feels Ann cast a confused glance in her direction, but she instead watches as Ben approaches both of them, a guy who she assumes is a friend of his trailing behind him. “Hey, Ben,” she says, shifting her weight awkwardly so that she’s able to lean back against the wall. She’s trying to look casual. “How’s it going?”

“Good,” he says, staring at her for a moment before breaking into a laugh. “Some party, huh?” She giggles at the sarcasm in his voice. “Nice shirt, by the way.”

Leslie has to look down at her chest to remember that she’s wearing her old Clinton/Gore shirt from a few years ago. She smiles. “Thanks,” she says, caught off guard. “Ann told me to wear it.”

He smiles. So does Ann.

“Uh, this is Chris,” Ben says, casting a glance at Ann, and then at the taller, slightly broader guy standing next to him. “He’s a friend of mine from school.”

Leslie smiles. “You drove down here from Minnesota?”

“Rode my bicycle, actually,” he says, his voice clipped and to the point. Leslie and Ann exchange a look of shock. 

“You rode your bike all the way down from Minnesota to Indiana?” Ann asks, arching an eyebrow. She hides her smile behind a sip of her drink.

“Yes,” Chris says, nonplussed. “It was a great test of my endurance, stamina, and, most importantly, will to push my body to its limits.”

The girls share another glance and Ann offers him a smile. “That’s… impressive,” she tells him, Leslie nodding along.

She wonders if this is what the night will consist of; awkward interactions with people she hardly knows that only lead to slightly less awkward interactions due to the aid of alcohol – either way, it doesn’t sound like a very fun time.

There’s a part of her that wants to go back up to her cabin and spend the rest of her night organizing her sock drawer. That, for some reason, sounds like it could be more fun than this.

:.:.:

She is now three drinks in and feels like she’s floating on a cloud – not a regular cloud, but one of the ones that looks like cotton candy hung up in the sky when the sun just begins to set, and everything is pink and light blue and lovely. She spends a lot of her time with Ben, who introduces her to other counselors that he spends most of his time with during the day.

Leslie tries to watch Ann and keep up with where she goes, watching as she floats around the party, her pink dress a beacon in the sea of people that have now filled the basement. The music blares and beer gets spilled on feet and the entire party smells of sweat and giggles and alcohol, now having reared back and gone full speed ahead into wherever it’s going before everyone ultimately crashes. 

She does notice that she can’t help but smile when she watches Chris approach Ann, multiple times, in fact, and offers her cans of PBR or mixed drinks before she politely declines, his arm trying to snake around her waist before she gracefully slides out of the way. She does that a lot, Leslie notices. It’s kind of funny (and reassuring).

Leslie ends up deep in a debate about First Lady Hillary Clinton and how she could certainly become President one day (which really ends up being more of a shouting match, considering how drunk everybody is) when she’s grabbed by the wrist and pulled out of the conversation.

It’s Ann, who’s definitely just as drunk as she is.

“Leslie,” she says, her name proving a bit more difficult for Ann to say than usual. “A bunch of us are gonna go play Suck and Blow over by the bar.” She tugs at Leslie’s wrist again. “You should come.”

Leslie stares up at Ann, confusion still an emotion she can clearly project despite her drunken state. “What’s Suck and Blow?” She asks. It sounds filthy. It probably is.

Ann giggles and pulls Leslie out of her argument, dragging her across the room. “C’mon,” she says, her words hidden in a laugh. “It’ll be fun.”

:.:.:

Leslie learns fairly quickly that Suck and Blow is just a really easy way to get people to kiss you, and everyone in the circle seems really excited at the prospect of doing so. She can recognize a few people in the circle – Tom, Andy (who’s brought April, which no one’s really said anything about), Ben’s friend, Chris, and Ben, who come in later, and her and Ann, among others.

Tom holds up a playing card and shows everyone in the circle, explaining the rules as best he can.

“So, basically, you put the card to your mouth and you suck in, so it sticks to your lips, and then you blow it to the person next to you, like –“ he pauses, leaning over to try to pass the card to April. She doesn’t do anything, the card falling to the floor and Tom leaning in to kiss her. She swats him away almost instinctively, and everyone laughs.

“What was that for?!” Tom whines, peeling the card up off of the sticky floor. 

“I don’t want to kiss you,” April deadpans. Andy laughs and puts an arm around her shoulder.

“Duh, Tom. She only wants to kiss me.”

Tom groans and goes on to explain the game again, Leslie trying her best to pay attention. Ben slides in next to her, and if she were sober she would have realized what was going on. Chris parts her and Ann and she feels slight disappointment that she can’t totally explain, and –

“Alright!” Tom pulls a fresh card from the deck in his hand. “Is everybody ready?”

“Wait!” Ann calls, turning around and leaving the circle. “Let me put my drink down.” She sets her red cup down on a nearby table and reenters, moving herself next to Leslie again, parting her and Ben. The girls share a smile, noses wrinkling up on their faces. 

The game starts all at once, and immediately Andy slips up, using it as an excuse to kiss April. The circle cheers and they part, both laughing. 

“Alright,” Tom whines, “if you guys just want to go make out, go upstairs or something.” 

The card starts going around again and it gets to Ben, who passes it to Ann, and Leslie can feel goosebumps grow across her arms – and she can’t quite explain why, which only makes it worse. 

Everyone laughs and someone somewhere else drops something, which makes everyone jump, and Ann drops the card, Ben leaning in to kiss her. The circle hoots and hollers and Leslie watches as Ben pulls away from her, goofy smiles on either of their faces.

Leslie can’t make out what they say to each other once they part, but they both look pretty pleased with themselves. 

“Wow,” Tom says, laughing slightly. “Beat that one!”

Leslie rolls her eyes – not only because Tom is annoying, but because the last thing anyone should ever to do Leslie Knope is challenge her. Give her something to beat, and she’ll do it.

The card starts with Ann and she passes it to Leslie no problem, Leslie going on to pass it to Chris, now by her side. The card makes its way around the circle again, a small victory celebration had by the group before making its way around the horn again, coming around to Ben and then to Ann, waiting to be passed on to Leslie.

She doesn’t know what it is that makes her think that she can do this now, instead of any other time. Somewhere more private seems like the better place to do it; on a walk or in their cabin right before they go to bed or are doing their nails or sitting in the arts and crafts cabin, left with no other company but the old radio in the corner and the watercolor paintings on the wall. Her surge of confidence courses throughout her entire body like electricity, and she feels like there’s a road map engrained inside of her – the energy boils down at the soles of her feet and shoots through her legs, up through her torso and out through her arms up until it reaches her head, where her confidence buzzes and hums in her head like a swarm of bees. It’s a brand new feeling that she can’t say she’s ever really experienced before, but she can’t say that she hates it.

Ann leans in to pass her the card, and Leslie doesn’t really try to accept it from her. It falls to the floor and she kisses Ann – but really kisses her, like it means something. Everyone starts to cheer, particularly the boys, and it only fuels her desire to prove herself (to who, she doesn’t know). 

That, and Ann’s kissing her back. 

They stand there, smiles pressed against smiles, hands fumbling for waists and pushing hair out of the others faces while others cheer them on. Leslie never would have guessed that her first kiss with Ann would have been underscored by “Tequila!,” but, here they are. 

They pull away from each other, Ann’s nose pressed against Leslie’s as it wrinkles up in a smile. 

“Wow,” April says, nodding her head. “Right on.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi hello waddup!! back again with another update - i promise i haven't forgotten about this, i'm just a very busy college student who takes longer than most to get her shit together. updates are going to be much slower than they had been in the past, but they'll still come!! don't worry!! i love this story too much to hang it up to dry. 
> 
> anyway, in the wake of the news of slower updates and my life being a busy mess, here's a really fluffy chapter <3

They stand outside, the lantern hanging over the door to the mess hall and the moon their only light, crickets and frogs their soundtrack. There’s a soft thump of what Leslie can only guess is the music from the basement, but it’s well hidden. No wonder the party had been held downstairs. Kind of hard to hear anything coming from underground.

She can’t entirely remember how they’ve gotten out here. It’s all kind of fuzzy and disjointed and she’s sure that’s because of the alcohol, not because of the shot of adrenaline she received when… well. When she and Ann had kissed. She can remember that much – and pretty well, actually. Her fingers still fizzle from where they had held on to Ann’s hips to steady herself, her heart slowly coming down from its jackrabbit pace from before.

She remembers pulling away from Ann and the two of them just standing there for a moment, together, close enough where everything was still close and pressed together in an embrace, teeth knocking together as they smiled and noses scrunched up against the other and eyelashes brushing against cheeks. 

She can see them stuck in one another, unsure of what to do or say next, and Ann eventually turning around, weaving her way through the crowd of canned beers and sweaty smiles, her hand reaching out to grab Leslie’s. They push their way through people, Ann’s hand losing its grip but still clinging on to Leslie’s as best she can, a full hand slowly fading into a finger or two wrapped around Leslie’s.

She remembers stumbling up the stairs and her and Ann exchanging a few giggles, and the two of them kind of colliding once they reached the top, staring at one another for a good moment before Ann’s hand found the door’s handle and making it outside, both of them exhaling as they were met with the fresh air of the outdoors instead of the canned, humid air the basement party had to offer.

When they surface, Leslie kind of expects Ann to grab her in another kiss, only one with more direction behind it this time. Ann would grab her and push her up against the wall of the cabin and they’d melt into a mess of kisses and hands fumbling for the right position and smelling of beer and mixed drinks and lip gloss, each one having the time to think out their kisses and breaks between kisses and enjoying the feeling of falling into one another without having to worry about doing it in front of an audience of their drunken peers.

Instead, they don’t say anything to one another. Ann leans against the porch and stares down at her feet. Leslie isn’t really sure what to say, and she always has something to say. 

“Did you do that on purpose?” Ann finally asks, turning her head sharply and looking at Leslie. They look at one another and Leslie stands there for a moment, looking at Ann and actually being able to see her now, both of them in a light that isn’t the dimly lit room of the party. Her eyes are dull and the crown of butterfly clips in her hair has become askew. Her lip gloss is smudged and Leslie can’t help but wonder if that’s her doing; if it’s from her kissing her.

She casually brings her fingers up to her own lips, feeling the sticky substance against them. She’s not wrong.

“I…” Her voice trails off, unable to decide whether or not she wants to say the words against her lips right this moment, because, after all, there’s a time and place for everything, and –

“Yeah,” is all she gets out at first, her voice shaky. “I mean… you should know, Ann, I’m very drunk right now, and I don’t think I can be completely responsible for my actions – even though doing something like kissing you without asking you first is wrong, really, really wrong.”

Ann leans against the porch and Leslie watches her as she bites her thumbnail.

“You didn’t need to ask for my permission to kiss me,” Ann says, brushing it off as her words slur slightly. “I just… I wasn’t expecting you to do it, I guess.”

Leslie stares at her, worry in her eyes. “What do you mean, you weren’t expecting me to do it?”

“I wasn’t expecting you to kiss me there, during that stupid game.” Ann pauses, and the silence hangs over the girls like a sheet.

“That was why I thought you asked me to play.” Leslie looks at Ann, her heart feeling like it’s fit to burst. This feels like pulling the pin from a grenade; saying just the right toxic combination of words and then running away, avoiding the destruction and leaving it for someone else to clean up. She looks at Ann, eyes flashing, and tries to see if she’s upset. “I didn’t mean it like that, Ann, I just –“

“I thought you were going to kiss me later, when we were alone, like… like this.”

Leslie feels her mouth fall open, the corners turning up into a small, accomplished smile. “Yeah.” Her heart feels heavy. “You thought I was going to kiss you?”

Ann looks back over her shoulder at Leslie and Leslie really can’t help but notice how pretty she looks now, under the light of the porch lantern and the moon, and how she kind of glows under the stars, even if her eyebrows are knit together in worry, her lips tugged into an apathetic frown. Ann walks to the edge of the porch, jumping off the edge and landing in the grass nearby. She keeps her back turned to Leslie, but Leslie can still hear her as she walks away. “Did you want to kiss me?”

There it is, that silence again. Leslie clears her throat.

“Y-Yeah.” She steps off of the porch and walks up to Ann, a hand reaching out to touch her arm. “Yeah, I… I really wanted to.”

Ann turns to look at Leslie, a small smile on her face. She closes the gap between them and brings up her own hand to touch Leslie’s arm, but it slowly wanders and finds purchase on her hip. Leslie doesn’t feel the same jolt of electricity that she has in the past, and she doesn’t know why. Maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it’s something else. Maybe she finally feels good about all of this. She doesn’t know.

“Good,” Ann says, her voice soft, still slurred. The girls stand close to one another now, Ann’s hand moving to push a piece of Leslie’s hair away from her face, arranging it back into the hairstyle she herself had set a few hours ago. “Because I was really hoping you would.”

Leslie bites down on a smile, looking down at her and Ann’s feet before looking back up at her, noticing that Ann’s suppressing her own grin. “Can… can I kiss you again?” She asks, a giggle in her voice.

Ann laughs. “Yes,” she says, and before Leslie has to worry about finding the next thing to say, she and Ann are kissing again, this time not as spontaneous as the first time. Her hands kind of try to hold Ann’s face and Ann’s smile kind of causes their teeth to knock together and it’s not the most choreographed thing she’s ever done, but it’s definitely the nicest thing she’s ever done. Ann feels the same way waffles with extra whipped cream or the Harvest Festival or a long lasting hug does.

She feels like Ann’s always supposed to have been there.

:.:.:

They wake up in the same bed, arms kind of draped over one another in a heap of limbs and embraces. Ann’s bed, in the corner. Half hidden behind her dresser, because, after all, it’s kind of a secret what they’re doing. To everyone around them and to themselves.

Leslie wakes up before Ann, her headache hitting her before she has the chance to open her eyes. She’s never woken up next to someone before – or at least not with someone like this. She’s used to being the first one to wake up at sleepovers and lay in her sleeping bag with her eyes open, waiting for the next person to wake up and say something. She’s never really woken up with someone else wrapped around her, and her wrapped around someone else.

She sits up and wipes her eyes, a smear of powder blue and black streaked across the back of her hands. She suddenly remembers the night before in flashes, almost like Polaroid pictures being projected across her mind. Nothing really surprises her. She touches her hair, which has fallen from the messy bun it had been in the night before and is now just a crimped blonde mess. She wonders what she looks like in a mirror. Like a monster, she supposes.

She turns and sees Ann, still fast asleep, and it almost looks like she’s smiling as she sleeps, her lips pushed up in a pout against the pillow, makeup smudged and hair mussed. Leslie can feel the smile grow across her face, and the fact alone that she can feel that makes her smile grow even wider. She tips her head down and stares into her lap, grabbing the hem of the over-sized shirt she sleeps in and playing with it between her fingers. She wonders if she’s ever felt this good about anything before.

She doesn’t really think she ever has.

Before she can try to work through what it is she wants to say to Ann once she wakes up, or what she feels about any of this, she can feel Ann shift in the bed (it’s only an extra-long twin, after all), a moan breaking through her lips and ending the silence, save for the slow, squeaky ceiling fan that hangs above them.

“G’morning,” Leslie says, biting back a smile. Ann’s eyes flutter open and she sits up, propping herself up against the wall. Ann’s lips spread into a smile, a lazy “hey” breaking through them.

“You look beautiful,” Leslie teases, giving Ann a nudge. Her hand lands on her knee and Leslie wonders if that’s okay; if they’re allowed to touch each other now. Not that they weren’t before, but… she doesn’t know. There’s something about touching Ann’s knee in her bed that feel more intimate than giving her a nudge and touching her knee while they’re out watching campers run around. Out there, her knees are exposed by her shorts, not because of the fact that she’s not wearing any pants.

“Thanks,” Ann says, giggling sweetly. Leslie thinks that Ann has the prettiest laugh in the world. She decides that for herself, right then and there.

And it kind of hits her then, a look of slight worry washing over her face. “We didn’t… last night… ?”

“No,” Ann interrupts, her back coming off the wall, scooting closer to Leslie. “No, we didn’t.” She tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. Leslie notices a few stray butterfly clips left stranded in her hair from the night before. Ann giggles, eyes avoiding Leslie. “I think we got back and changed into our pajamas and just kind of… fell asleep.”

“Oh,” Leslie says, somewhat relieved. She’s never had sex before, so it’s not like she would know, but she thinks she would remember what they would be like if they had done it. It seems like it would be the landmark event of any night, regardless of how drunk she was.

Not that she wanted them to have done it. Or not have done it. She’s really not sure. She’s very happy with her memory of kissing Ann outside of the party, her lips tasting like vodka and strawberry lip gloss. 

She can kind of remember changing out of her clothes and into her pajamas and turning over her shoulder to see Ann still changing, watching the process of Ann pulling her dress over her head and flipping her pillow over to find the over-sized U of M shirt she sleeps in and pulling that on, her eyes trained on her figure the entire time. 

Her heavy, drunk eyes, but still.

“That’s still fun,” Leslie says, laughing and shifting in bed, turning to face Ann. The girls look at one another, bashful smiles on each of their faces. “Kissing you last night was fun, Ann. Really fun. I just want you to know that.”

Ann laughs, Leslie realizing her eagerness. “Sorry,” she apologizes, laughing at herself. 

“No, you’re fine,” Ann says, her words punctuated with a laugh. “I like it when you ramble like that. It’s… it’s cute.”

Leslie blushes. 

“No one’s ever really told me that before.” She bites back a smile. “I’ve always thought it was just this dumb habit.”

“I think it shows that you care about people,” Ann says, her voice soft. “I mean, you think about so much at once… you have so much on your mind and it’s never about you, it’s always about other people and how you can help them or make them feel good.” Ann’s hand reaches out for Leslie’s, ending up laying lazily on top of it. She shoots a knowing smile at Leslie, moving her hand to push her hair from her face. “So when you ramble like that in front of me, I just think it means that you’ve been thinking about me.”

Leslie laughs, looking away from Ann for a moment. “Well, you’re not wrong,” she says, unable to shake her smile. “Now whenever I see you I’m just going to think about kissing you.”

Ann giggles. “You should kiss me now to get it out of your system.”

Ann’s words cause Leslie to flash back to the night before – and, again, she’s never been one to back down from a challenge. 

She crawls across the bed – which isn’t far, but she still has to cover some ground – to reach Ann, both of them meeting in a kiss much easier than the night before. Her hands rest on Ann’s shoulders and she can feel Ann’s hands grab the sides of her face, pulling her closer as they continue to kiss each other. 

“Hangover breath,” Leslie says through a laugh, the two of them parted for a moment. She can feel Ann shake her head slightly and she goes back in to kiss Leslie, more intent behind her actions this time.

“I don’t care,” she mutters almost breathlessly, kissing Leslie until she kisses her back. It’s not hard to do. Besides, once you start making out with someone everything kind of just… tastes the same. She’s not really sure how to phrase that thought without it sounding disgusting. She doesn’t think she’ll ever have to.

She gets lost for a moment, kissing Ann and feeling both of their hands move from the safer spots of shoulders and necks to waists and hips and before she knows it Ann’s sliding down back on the bed, sprawling out across her comforter, Leslie kind of forced to hover over her, both of them still kissing. She’s never done this with anyone, let alone Ann, who she feels she knows so well – too well to be doing something like this. It makes her heart swell but her chest feel tight, like her heart is caged and is bursting at the seams. Ann’s hands trace her figure and pause on her hips, fingers pushing up the hem of her shirt and touching the skin of her stomach that’s never been touched before by someone that isn’t her, and it’s scary and thrilling and it makes her head spin – with or without the hangover.

“Ann,” Leslie mutters, her voice breathy. “I… I don’t want to do this now,” she gets out. She pauses, rolling to her side so that she’s able to curl into Ann’s side, her back now against the wall. Ann turns to look at her and Leslie smiles as she looks at her, a hand reaching up to pull a butterfly clip from her hair. “This is all really fast and I just… I like doing this kind of stuff,” she says, pulling another barrette from Ann’s hair. “Plus, I don’t want you to make out with hungover and post-party me,” she says, her hand accidentally lingering near Ann’s face, a thumb brushing against her cheek. “You deserve better than that.”

She’s kind of joking, and she’s kind of not, but Ann’s smile grows.

“You’re right,” Ann says, her head nuzzling into Leslie’s shoulder. It surprises Leslie how they still fit together like puzzle pieces, even now. “Let’s just stick to this for now,” she says, her voice soft, lips buzzing against Leslie’s shoulder. 

The girls lay like that for a while, noses sometimes bumping into one another and the occasional half-attempted kiss here and there. Leslie’s pretty sure she could fall asleep like this, Ann so close to her she can feel her breathing and is able to memorize the pattern, creating a rhythm that steadies her a bit.

“What do you want to tell people?” Leslie asks, her voice soft. There’s no need for it to be any louder than it is; they’re so close. Plus, she kind of likes it like this. It feels like they’re whispering secrets to one another – which they kind of are. 

“I don’t think we need to tell them anything,” Ann says, hiding her words in Leslie’s sleeve. “We’re just… friends. Always have been.” She giggles, her smile pressed into Leslie’s arm. “We’re just lucky we live together.”

That brings a smile to Leslie’s face and she stares up at the ceiling, feeling herself start to giggle, which quickly becomes unshakable. “You’re right,” she says, and she feels Ann kind of melt into her side. 

“For now, I think we should just go get breakfast,” Ann suggests, sitting up slightly. “Or lunch, or whatever. I don’t know what time it is.”

They share a laugh and both kind of sit up, awkwardly sliding out of bed one after another, Leslie walking over to her respective side of the room. “I’ll make you a waffle sandwich, if you’d like.”

Ann turns over her shoulder, a smile stuck to her face. “I’d really like that,” she says. Leslie beams.

“Well, good, ‘cause I’m gonna make you one.” Her eyes pinch shut and she immediately realizes how dorky she sounds, but Ann still laughs at her, and it makes her feel better about everything. 

She’s just very happy about how happy she’s been feeling lately.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's been 84 years..... but in all seriousness, i'm very happy to be updating this!!! i'm really hoping the next update won't be in forever, but i will promise to finish this fic at some point. should it be my resolution in 2018??? maybe!!

Summer feels like a capsule.

It always does. There hasn’t been a summer in her life (that she can remember, anyway) that doesn’t feel like it exists in the real world. Alternate timeline, different dimension, whatever. Maybe it’s the weather, maybe it’s the break from academics and stress that makes her want to tear her hair out, but Leslie knows that summer always feels like an isolated part of the year; an island that floats in the middle of the calendar where, and she hates to lean into the cliché, but anything seems possible.

Or maybe it’s Ann.

Maybe it’s Ann, and how happy she feels whenever they’re together. It’s not a normal kind of happiness, either. It’s long-lasting and glows from the inside out and it’s kind of scary. She can’t say that she’s ever known something like this before - whatever it is. Ann’s her friend, but she feels like more than that. Ann’s like a puzzle piece that’s gone missing behind the proverbial couch of her life. One that she’s finally found after years of looking and thinking that she’d never see again.

Ann feels like she’s always kind of… been there.

Leslie’s more surprised that she’s managed to use the word ‘proverbial’ in one of her internal rants than she is about the feelings she has towards Ann.

Their relationship doesn’t change much. It almost feels domestic. It’s a lot of kissing, Leslie realizes. And hand holding. Lots and lots of hand holding. Sometimes they’ll head down to the mess hall early for breakfast or stay later after dinner and hold hands under the table, fingers laced loosely enough together to pull away from one another swiftly if anyone approaches them. 

One night, they snuck down to the rec room to watch a movie - Thelma & Louise. It all sort of happened by accident, really. Leslie happened to run into Ann in the canteen that afternoon, poring over a TV Guide. 

“I miss watching TV,” Ann said, standing behind Leslie as she pays the cashier for a Charleston Chew. She rested her chin on Leslie’s shoulder, pouting slightly. “God, I wish we had a TV in our cabin. We could stay up and watch TV all night.” 

Leslie turned around, unwrapping her candy bar as she grabbed the TV Guide from Ann, the girls paging through it together. 

“You wanna watch a movie tonight?” Leslie asked, taking a bite of her candy bar. She pointed a finger down at a block on the magazine’s TV schedule. “Look. Thelma & Louise. We could go down to the rec center and watch it.”

She watched a smile slowly grow on Ann’s face, teeth sinking into her bottom lip. “What?” She asked, laughing a bit. She lowered her voice. “Like a date?”

Leslie’s mouth fell open, looking at Ann for a bit. “Please. Ann. That’s not…” Her voice trailed off, shaking her head. “That wasn’t what I meant. You’re… projecting.” The girls share a small, concealed laugh.

“Let’s do it,” Ann said, taking Leslie by surprise. “No, I’m serious. It’ll be fun.” 

And so they planned out a date of sorts, with Ann buying a bag of microwavable popcorn for the night ahead of them before taking a bite of Leslie’s Charleston Chew and heading out the door, leaving Leslie behind. 

It ended up being exactly as Leslie imagine it to be. A lot of laughing and hands accidentally knocking into each other when reaching for popcorn at the same time and talking over the movie, although a movie night never really consists of watching the movie. Leslie knew that.

Or, at least, she’s got a better grasp on what’s commonplace now.

She loves these little moments with Ann, the ones that feel like out of body experiences that she can look back on ten or fifteen years later and watch like a movie, being able to see her and Ann together and remember exactly how the summer of 1995 felt, how it sounded, how it tasted.

And, of course, she’s afraid of what happens when summer ends. When the camp closes down and everyone goes their separate ways and she has to face the fear she doesn’t want to address: leaving Ann.

There are phones. She knows that. And they can write letters, and email each other, even. She doesn’t like emailing people too much, since she thinks it’s kind of impersonal, but she’d be willing to do it for Ann. And Ann Arbor isn’t too far away from Indianapolis. She could drive. Or they could meet halfway, somewhere in… Chicago?

She doesn’t like to think about it for too long. It hurts, like a deep, hollow pain that she can’t shake by trying to distract herself. 

All Leslie knows she can do to ignore those feelings is to forget about the countdown clock over her head. Summer can end when it ends. As far as she’s concerned, it’ll last forever.

:.:.:

Fourth of July arrives fast and furiously. There isn’t much planned at camp as far as events are concerned - there are fireworks and counselors are supposed to be down by the lake handing out sparklers at some point in time. A detail released in a memo to all counselors that’s clearly gone unread.

The lack of planned festivities doesn’t stop Leslie. She’s had an idea brewing for a while now, and she finally thinks that she’s ready to present it to her peers.  
She does, however, run it by Ann first.

“I want to throw a big barbecue for the Fourth of July,” she tells Ann one night, kind of all at once. They lay in bed together, both staring up at the ceiling. “Like, a bunch of hot dogs and hamburgers, and sparklers, and cornhole… one of those things where you stick your head in and it turns you into a cow, or a corn on the cob…”

Ann giggles as she thinks aloud. “That sounds super fun,” she says, and Leslie’s brought back down to Earth. “You’re gonna plan that all on your own?”

Leslie can feel Ann turn to face her, and she’s hit with the smell of her hair - roses. Ann always smells like flowers. Hugging her is like hugging a bouquet. 

“Yeah,” Leslie says, biting back a smile. “I’m a really good planner, Ann. I planned my junior and senior prom in high school all by myself.”

“You don’t have to defend yourself,” Ann giggles, her voice softer. She twists a lock of Leslie’s hair around her finger and leans in closely, nuzzling into Leslie’s neck. “I believe you.”

Leslie turns in a bit to face Ann and the two fall into a kiss, Ann’s hand in Leslie’s hair and Leslie’s hands not really knowing what to do. They giggle between kisses until their kisses come so quickly after one another that there’s no room to fill in between them. They both sit up, uncoordinated and clumsy, fumbling for each other as they try to direct each other into a different position on the bed that’s more conducive to, well, making out.

“I wanna help you with your Fourth of July thing,” Ann says, her kisses moving down Leslie’s neck. Leslie giggles, and Ann surfaces for a moment, eyes meeting. “Just… tell me how I can help, and I’ll do it.”

Leslie grins, silently agreeing with Ann by sealing it with a kiss. 

:.:.:

“Alright,” Leslie says, trying to get the room’s attention one evening, standing in front of a huge whiteboard, already scribbled with note. She’s managed to wrangle a handful of her friends (ok, her only real friends she’s made here) to join her. Tom is there, sitting close to Ann and trying to talk to her under the guise of testing out some new pickup lines he’s learned, and Leslie watches, laughing to herself as she sees Ann play along. Andy sits with April, who stopped to tell Leslie that she liked her shirt from the party the other day. And… that’s kind of it.

Whether or not they’re there because Ann promised them candy is beside the point.

“You guys,” Leslie says, a bit louder, finally getting everyone’s attention. She smiles as she feels their eyes on her, turning towards her whiteboard. “First of all, thank you all for coming. It really means a lot that you guys are willing to go out of your way to enrich the experience of the campers of Camp Wamapoke,” she says, eyes scanning the crowd of four. She pauses on April. “Even if some of you are campers yourselves.”

April stares at Ann. “I’m only here because that First Aid counselor said there’d be candy,” she deadpans. “She’s a liar.”

Ann rolls her eyes. “I’ll give you guys the candy afterwards,” she groans.

“Anyway,” Leslie says, turning her attention back to the board. “I need everyone’s help to make this Fourth of July thing work. I selected each one of you individually because you all have very specific skills that will make sure this whole celebration goes off without a hitch.” She pauses, laughing nervously. “And, because you’re all my friends, so.”

No one reacts. Leslie looks to Ann. She offers her a smile.

“Right,” Leslie says, remembering where she is. “So, Fourth of July. Like I was saying earlier, what I’m most excited about is -”

She’s cut off by one of the back doors opening, and it takes her attention away from her presentation. 

“Hey, sorry I’m late.” It’s Ben. He hasn’t changed out of his camp t shirt yet and he looks more tired than usual. Leslie doesn’t know why she’s taking the time and energy to notice this. He walks towards the front of the room, up to where Leslie is. 

She really doesn’t know why she feels so… however she feels right now.

“Oh,” she says, kind of breathless. “Um, hey, Ben.” She smiles. Ann doesn’t really notice (or at least she doesn’t think she does). “Please, uh, take a seat. Anywhere.”  
Ben smiles and walks inside, eventually taking a seat next to Ann. 

Leslie swallows thickly and looks at Ben and Ann, both smiling back up at her.

And for the first time in a long time, Leslie Knope doesn’t know what to do.

:.:.:

Nothing much really comes of her meeting. It kind of dissolves into a lot of talking over each other and Tom telling everyone that he demands to be in charge of the music while Andy keeps on telling everyone that he could easily have his band come in and play, which just turns into everyone leaving. Ready to help Leslie out however she can, but not ready to work as a cohesive unit.

Leslie doesn’t take it to heart, however. She works in student government. She knows how unproductive (most) meetings can be. And it doesn’t bother her too much, just…

She hasn’t really had her mind on the meeting. Her brain feels like salt water taffy that’s being pulled in two different directions - in one direction by Ann, in the other by Ben. It’s confusing, and she doesn’t know why she’s feeling this way at all. 

“I think you really sold them,” Ann tells her afterwards, smiling brightly. Leslie tries to summon the energy to match hers, but she finds herself falling short. Ann seems to notice. “Maybe you could have Tom and Andy both play their music, like a music festival type thing? I mean, it’s only the Fourth of July, but if you want to make it this big thing, I think you should go for it, right?”

Leslie smiles at Ann, and she’s kind of brought back down to Earth. She doesn’t know what it is about Ann that manages to make her feel so calm and at ease, but it’s nice. It goes back to the puzzle piece theory she’s decided must be true; Ann is the missing piece she never knew was missing. 

She wants to say something to Ann, but she doesn’t know what. It’s weird, being with Ann in front of all of these people and not knowing what to do. She doesn’t like it - the uncertainty of the situation, and the uncertainty of her feelings towards Ann in the moment.

Ben walks up to both of them, smiling. “Hey, Leslie,” he says, and Leslie feels like she’s been given an electrical shock. 

“Hey,” she says, too quickly. She can feel Ann look at her and without looking back, Leslie can picture the confused look on Ann’s face she’s seen plenty of times. “You know, most people take off their work shirts at the end of the day,” she says, loosening up a bit.

“Yeah?” Ben looks down at his shirt, laughing a bit. Leslie nods.

“Yeah, but, you can pull yours off pretty well, so.” She laughs a bit, quickly catching her gaffe. “I mean, you look good in your shirt, not that you could pull it off - not that you shouldn’t, I mean, I -”

Ben laughs, straightening out his shirt. Ann joins in nervously, looking at Leslie. Leslie can’t avoid seeing her this time, and now catches Ann’s full expression - and more than anything else, she looks sad. 

“No, I get you,” he says, and Leslie laughs again, not fully understanding why. She can see Ann’s expression turn from confused to sad, and right when she thinks it’ll change to something else, it doesn’t. Ann fidgets nervously and puts her hands on her hips, and Leslie tries not to look at her. 

“I think what you’re doing is really cool,” Ben tells Leslie, and she smiles again. “And I just wanted to apologize for getting here late. That’s really not my thing.”

“It’s okay,” Leslie says, and she waves it off. “Thanks, though.”

“Leslie’s really good at that kind of thing,” Ann pipes up. “She’s always… looking out for others.” 

Leslie smiles, and she can feel Ann’s hand reach for her own, their fingers just touching, and Leslie has a gut reaction - and flinches. She pulls her hand away slightly, but it’s just slight enough that she feels a similar tug in her gut. 

“Yeah, she is,” Ben says, and he smiles another smile in Leslie’s direction. “I’ll see you around, I guess.” 

“Yeah,” Leslie says, watching as he turns and makes his way out, and she doesn’t know why she’s trying so hard to be likeable all of a sudden. 

She’s already well-liked. By Ann.

But before she can fully process what she’s thinking and feeling, Ann interrupts.

“I think I’m gonna head out with Ben,” Ann says, trailing behind him. Her voice isn’t as happy as it once was, and the way she looks at Leslie is a look that Leslie’s never seen on her face before. 

“Oh,” Leslie says, trying to hide her surprise. It feels like there’s something caught in her throat. “Ann, I thought w-we could go for a walk or something,” she stammers. “Y’know, like, out by the lake or something?” She steadies her breath. “Like we did that one time?”

Ann looks back at her, but only for a moment. “Yeah, uh, I think I’m just gonna go home,” she says, and Leslie can hear a similar catch in Ann’s breath, even though Ann’s much better at hiding it than she is. “Or something,” she says. “I’m not sure yet. Don’t wait up for me.”

Before Leslie can say anything, or even form a thought, Ann’s gone, leaving Leslie alone with her thoughts and messy whiteboard.

And for the second time that day, Leslie Knope doesn’t know what to do.


End file.
